


Patchwork Guardian

by Kitbull



Series: Patchwork Guardian [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chimeras, Covering the three year time gap, Do with the previous tag what you will, Dogs, Gen, Human Experimentation, Human Transmutation, Maes Hughes Lives, Nina Lives, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Ripple Effect, Shenanigans, The dog is actually a human chimera, What if the Elric Brothers had a dog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-04-11 14:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 211,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21555163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitbull/pseuds/Kitbull
Summary: Amestrian Wolfhound, Kuvasz, and Aerugonian Wolfdog, three breeds known for hunting predators such as bears and wolves, and for herding sheep without the intervention of an owner. An alchemist abducts an adolescent girl from an orphanage and forces her into a transmutation circle with these canines, a brown bear, and a spiny mouse. The resulting human chimera, resembling an abnormally large dog, possesses the strengths of all species, and is one of the most complex chimeras created, although it is unable to assume a human form.Before the chimera can be used for the government as intended, she escapes and flees into the countryside.Her fugitive journey brings her to a small town in the East of Amestris, where she finds herself guarding sheep at a distance as a cover, before encountering a pair of younger children in a cemetery.OrA fic where the Elric brothers have a gigantic human chimera that looks like a dog as a companion, and how that alters the story.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Original Female Character(s), Edward Elric & Original Female Character, Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Series: Patchwork Guardian [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822774
Comments: 139
Kudos: 320
Collections: 3am Fics Stealing My Sleep, Series that I want to read once they are complete





	1. How a Stray Dog Feels

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, and is basically just an idea I had that I wanted to see done. The story starts before the Elric Brothers attempt to bring back their mother. Please note, the Mature rating is due to dark themes, but I don't write smut or porn. The OC character is stuck in a body that strongly resembles a dog, and there's a lot of emotional turmoil that will stem from that, relating to things like what it means to be a person, and what it means to be independent. For those wondering about the dog breeds used, the names are altered to fit the universe. Amestrian Wolfhounds are Irish Wolfhounds, the Aerugonian Wolfdog is a Czechoslovakian Wolfdog. Kuvasz is unchanged from the original breed name. I added the bear and the mouse for reasons involving making the character more durable (you have to justify dragging her into danger), and adding a few anomalous traits.
> 
> The OC goes by a human name in this chapter, but will abandon it to adopt whatever name the Elric Brothers give her. Feel free to comment with suggestions!

Millie was starving, but she was not entirely surprised by her predicament, given how unusual it was. She was not entirely sure what town she was in, but consisting mostly of rolling green pastures filled with sheep, there was not much she could do other than hope she passed for a massive herding dog. While water was relatively easy to find, she had no idea how to hunt, if there was even anything to eat in the first place. Convincing people to give her food was unlikely. She couldn’t get a good look at herself, but a curly-coated, abnormally large grey dog that vaguely resembled a _wolf _was more likely to scare people than look cute, if it begged for food.

Thus, Millie wandered around aimlessly, always keeping at least one herd of sheep within her line of sight, trying to think of a plan. Something, _anything_ that would get her into a better situation, without immediately letting the government link the escape of a top-secret human chimera to her appearance. She knew almost nothing about alchemy, but right now, she currently hated the very fact that it existed. She was pretty certain that her current state, merged with the instincts of several animals at once and trapped in the body of a dog, was irreversible. If she was captured, she had a feeling that she would be locked away for study. She had no human rights, no idea where she was, and no plans, either. She might as well be an unusual stray nobody wanted.

The wind blew from the north, and the scent of _people_, she had concluded, drifted into her nose, along with something distinctly canine. She was not sure how many people were there, but they had a dog with them. A tiny idea finally came into her head, relating to that fact.

Dog owners might be inclined to trust a stray more if it was friendly towards their own pet, right? Would this regular dog help endear her a bit, if she tried to play with it? She wasn’t looking for an _owner_, but would someone hopefully feed a stray that seemed gentle? She had no idea how far generosity would go in a tiny town like this. They might think she was dangerous even if she didn’t seem aggressive. She had no better options, though, so she lowered her head and tail and slowly padded away from her current herd of sheep, seeking the source of the smell.

The landscape slowly began to shift, as she passed through the open gates of a white fence, crossing into a cemetery, the land mostly flat. She felt a pang of guilt, seeing the gravesites as she walked along. There was somebody’s family buried here, but she had already stepped into this place. She simply hoped the mourners wouldn’t be hostile to a strange dog roaming amongst the stones.

As she drew closer to the smell, Millie tucked her tail between her legs and tried to make herself look as small—_scared_—as possible, not even bothering to look up from her front paws. Her appearance would be the exact opposite of something that would seem hostile, if she was posturing herself correctly. Her body language normally reflected how she actually felt, but Millie had human intelligence and could muster more control over it. Most people would not think a dog capable of trickery. It also wasn’t too hard for her to look scared, considering she was terrified of who she might run into. They could have a gun on their person and just shoot her. Being riddled with bullets wasn’t an appealing prospect.

She came into what seemed the centermost portion of the grounds, and the dog she’d been trying to find started barking, making her jolt with surprise. Dogs did not have complex language like regular humans did, but the barks, howls, and whines they produced were far from meaningless. This dog was currently telling her to stay away. She lowered herself entirely to the ground and wagged her tail slightly, trying to look submissive. It was a bit humiliating, but she would rather try to establish that whatever dog this was, it was above her. Trying to be the alpha was of no use, here. Her gaze remained downcast, even as she heard it approaching.

Millie dared to glance up at the canine, taking in black fur with white markings on the face and chest, and glinting automail replacing its left leg (what sweet owners). She thought its hackles were up, not a good sign, so she whined slightly and wagged her tail again, glancing up and away, her lips curving in a type of smile that was more indicative of anxiety than anything else. She did _not_ want to get into a fight with this dog, no matter how much stronger she probably was.

This seemed to appease him, and he began sniffing her, slowly walking around and inspecting her. She held still during the entire process, until finally he stood back and gave a confused whine. He concluded that Millie was not a threat, but given that she smelled like some sort of mouse as well as a _bear_, he had no idea what to think. She did not smell like a normal dog, even if that was predominant in her scent, now.

Millie did the only thing she thought would make sense, and whined back, before it turned into a sort of howling talk. Technically, she could form words in this body, but she decided until she gained someone’s trust, it was safer to look like a particularly ‘talkative’ canine. Additionally, she thought that these sounds, however crude, properly conveyed a ‘I don’t know why I smell weird, why is it a problem?’ message to this other dog. Humans, too, were able to understand the tone of complaint.

Some more footsteps approached, “Where’d you come from?” A child’s voice asked, sounding sweet and innocent, if not…oddly sad. Millie thought she smelled something salty, possibly tears?

Millie gave a tiny whine and glanced up, seeing a boy with short blonde hair and golden eyes. She had never seen eyes that color before, and his shade of blonde was particularly gold in hue, as well. He was wearing a light blue shirt and grey shorts. He did not seem afraid, in spite of how large the strange dog he was approaching was. He looked like he was going to pet her, even, before a voice stopped him.

“Al, get away from that thing! You don’t know where it’s been!” A harsher voice called, before a second child ran up to join the first.

Millie began making tiny whines of protest. Sure, she’d been running loose for a few days and probably wasn’t the cleanest thing on the planet, but she wasn’t _disease-ridden_, or anything that would pose a serious hazard. She was just really hungry and needed help.

“But brother, it doesn’t seem aggressive.”

“Al, it’s a strange mutt without a collar. What if it hikes its leg on mom’s grave, or something?”

“Brother!”

Millie had never before felt sympathy mixed with outrage before, but she was sure that was the exact combination of emotions the second child’s words brought. She felt bad that she had disturbed two young boys while they were visiting their mother’s grave, but at the same time, the very _notion_ that she would defile something like a burial site was offensive. She raised her head and looked at the second child, tilting it slightly, before giving a whining set of howls that sounded like a harsh protest. She even tried to vaguely mouth the words in dog-speak so the sounds would almost form, ‘I wouldn’t dare!’

The second child had the same coloring as the first, with perhaps sharper eyes, and longer hair. He wore roughly the same thing as his sibling, but the shirt was a dark navy, instead. He didn’t respond to her protests, but met her eyes with a sort of intimidating glare. He wasn’t very large, though. Millie was bigger than a fully-grown man. The look the boy was giving her was impressive, but rather than let it scare her away, Millie stared back, and narrowed dark brown eyes into almond shapes, tilting her head further, giving a tiny rumble distinctly different from a growl.

The child leaned forward and continued the staring contest, “So what, you big mutt, you wouldn’t do anything, is that it?” he said challengingly.

Millie huffed, and performed an exaggerated sideways shift of her snout, which she knew would look like vehement denial, her eyes going back to the kid’s face.

“Brother, there’s nobody else in the cemetery. Den seems to think it’s okay, though.” The first child, Al, whispered. He then proceeded to ignore his brother’s concerns about the massive stray dog--Millie liked Al, she somehow knew this kid was probably kind to animals--and spoke to her. “Are you missing your owner?”

She breathed a deep sigh and lowered her head onto the grass, resting it between her front paws, and looked up at Al with a more solemn expression, giving a quiet rumble. She wished she could just outwardly tell these two children that she was a person in need of help, but chimeras didn’t just show up from nowhere. _Chimera_, she thought bitterly,_ you’re a chimera now, not a normal human._

“Do you not have an owner?” Al ventured, while his brother huffed and looked away, having given up trying to convince his sibling to stop.

“You don’t think they just ditched it here in the cemetery, do you?” The brother asked.

Millie heaved another sigh, this time, making a sort of quiet howl that sounded eerily like a ‘No’, wagging her tail slightly when he reached out and scratched behind one of her ears. A bit humiliating from the perspective of a human, but a positive sign that the interaction was no longer dangerous. There was also the simple fact that she might have actually liked this more than she wanted to admit. At the same time that Al was scratching Millie’s ear, the dog, Den, walked up and licked the other side of her face, forcing her to squint the eye shut.

It warmed her heart, it really did, though she was more interested in seeing if these people would give her food or not, as selfish as that wish was. She hadn’t eaten in days, and although she imagined it was disgusting, she was willing to eat dog food if that was what she had to do to keep herself alive. If dogs could do it, so could she…at least she hoped anyway.

“I think it’s lost,” Al concluded.

“Well, Al, what do we even do?” the brother spoke, apparently resigned to Al’s animal-loving tendencies.

“We can ask Granny?” Al directed at his sibling, before turning his attention back to Millie, “Are you hungry—Oh I don’t even know if you’re a boy or a girl.”

Thank goodness she looked entirely like a dog or this question would have been extremely awkward. _You look like a dog_, she reminded herself, _dogs are naked most of the time, nobody finds it offensive or weird._ Still…it was distressing. Not as bad as when she was abducted by that alchemist, not by a longshot—_don’t think about it_—but standards of dress were still a thing in her mind. If she ever _did_ wind up telling these two kids she was a chimera, she desperately hoped they would not dwell on this shared moment in their lives.

The child immediately changed the subject, thankfully, “Brother, you can pet it, it’s friendly.”

“You’re not going to let this go are you, Al? Fine, I’ll pet the stupid dog.” This kid was pretty rude, and although it was adorable how Al kept calling him ‘brother’, she really wished she knew what his name was. As annoyed as she was by his attitude, she allowed him to ruffle the fur on her head, a rougher gesture than what the other child used, but not intolerable. A part of her thought perhaps he was only angry because of _where_ Millie had shown herself, rather than _when. _Letting a dog run loose unattended was probably a breach of social rules, or something, even if nobody would blame the animal itself.

A tiny idea came into her head, relating to figuring out how this other child behaved. Perhaps it was a little degrading, but nobody would find it unusual in the slightest. She wanted to mess with this kid a bit.

Her pink tongue darted out and she licked the sibling’s wrist.

“Agh!” He pulled back, disgusted, “Don’t slobber on me!” He yelped, trying to shake the drool off of his hand. It was comical how exaggerated his reaction was.

“It likes you,” Al told him, smiling.

Millie’s tail was wagging, now, registering that the child wasn’t really angry at her. If he didn’t like getting dog kisses, as awkward as she felt giving them, she was tempted to keep doing it, just for the sheer amusement of seeing his reactions. She looked like a dog. She could get away with it. Deciding she was done lying down, she slowly rose up onto her paws again, looming over the children.

“Woah, you’re huge!” Al exclaimed.

Well, Millie knew that already. She dwarfed these two kids. That brought some other questions to her mind, though. Namely, how old were these brothers, and what were they doing out here without supervision? This town was tiny, wherever it was, nothing but green pastures in any direction for miles, but still, she wouldn’t rule out the possibility of these two getting abducted if an opportunist strolled past. Although it was a cemetery, it wasn’t as if bad people could pass through. Or hungry dog-human chimeras. It was a bit worrying.

“Al, if you’re going to keep worrying about this, then let’s go ahead with your idea and take her to Granny’s. Maybe she’ll be able to help figure out where she came from.” The unnamed brother decided, looking annoyed, or rather, _trying_ to. If you squinted, you could see a tiny amount of color tinting his cheeks. He must be more flattered by the idea that Millie liked him than he was trying to let on. This one was secretly a sweetheart deep down, wasn’t he? Except everything he felt seemed to show on his face. She could read him like an open book.

“She’s really friendly, I’m sure her owners must miss her.” Al responded, giving the side of her face another affectionate pat. _Don’t think about the sudden use of pronouns, Millie. You’re stuck like this. Yeah I bet they do miss me, but not in the way these kids are thinking._ Honestly, Millie would be happy to never see her apparent ‘owners’ for the rest of her life. These two boys were good kids, she could tell. Perhaps one of them was a bit rough around the edges, but she couldn’t see them as having bad intentions. She felt it deep down, instinctively.

Al continued, “Come on, follow us.” He ran back a bit, his brother following him, and they stopped to see if she would go with them. “Come here, let’s go!” He called. Oh dear, this kid was using that baby voice people used on dogs, now. She could choose to get offended, but dogs were supposed to like being talked to this way. She might as well pass for a well-trained herding dog, for now. Or someone’s lost pet. She didn’t think a herding dog would be so friendly towards complete strangers.

Den began following the brothers first, before Millie trailed behind, careful not to distort the hierarchy she had established herself in by running past him. Dogs had a thing about who walked in front of a group. Equals walked side-by-side, like the brothers. Alphas walked in front, with lesser individuals staying at the back. For now, the leaders were the two humans. “Good girl!” Al praised, when he saw her following. The group proceeded to leave the cemetery, joining onto a simple dirt road.

After the group walked along the dirt road for a while, they left it to follow a smaller trail. Millie spotted one house standing by itself on a hill, a brief distance away. She could make out another building in the distance further out, with some sort of sign hanging from its front, but it was too far for her to read it. The pair of children, instead of stopping, actually went past the first home, and led her to the second structure, where she could finally read the signs around it.

The signs told her, firstly, that it was a family-owned business, and that secondly, Den was probably the Rockbell’s family pet. It explained the automail leg. Tentatively, the brothers were children from the household, but given the neighboring home, she wouldn’t jump to that conclusion just yet. They could be neighbors from the first house…but if their mother was gone, where was the father? Why their grandmother?

“Hey Granny!” Not-Al yelled, charging up the front porch ahead of the human-canine party, and knocking on the door.

The door was answered by an older woman, not much taller than the children, silver hairs tied into a bun with round glasses adorning her face. “Edward, Alphonse, back so soon?” She mused, before her eyes drifted to look at Millie. “…and you’ve made a new friend?”

Edward—Thank goodness she had a name for him now—pointed at her, “This big dog wandered up. We think it’s lost. Al wouldn’t leave it alone. We came to ask if you could help us figure out where she came from.”

The woman thoughtfully hummed, before descending the steps and approaching, “She’s definitely got some herding dog in her, but I’d say she’s a mix with markings like that. She’s got leaves and dirt in her fur, could use a grooming. I can make some phone calls, but if nobody claims her, she’s a stray.” This ‘Granny’ was so calm. Millie had a feeling not much would phase this person. It was soothing, how even her voice was.

Alphonse petted Millie’s ears, “She’s really friendly, though,” He mused.

“I suppose she just likes the two of you, then.” Granny held out a hand, palm-up, for Millie to inspect. She sniffed it, playing her role, but then actively began memorizing the woman’s scent, when she realized it was a valid thing, now. She set her chin down on the offered palm and let the woman scratch it. “She’s rather social, though. It seems like she has Den’s approval, too.” The dog in question was standing next to Millie, his tail wagging affectionately.

After a few moments, Granny withdrew her hand, “I’ll go inside and see about those phone calls, in the meantime, we’ll give her some of the dog food we have for Den. If she’s been running loose she’s probably hungry. But first…” Her eyes narrowed, and Millie felt a chill run down her spine at the look. Granny abruptly turned to look back at the house.

“—Winry!” The old woman called.

“Yes?” A young girl around the same age as the two boys, with paler blonde hair and blue eyes, immediately peered out from the front door. Her eyes focused on Millie, “Ed, Al, when did you get a dog?” She asked, in a voice that suggested she had probably been watching them the entire time, perhaps through a window, and had been dying for an excuse to come outside and ask about it.

“Winry, I need you to fetch the grooming supplies we keep for Den.” Granny said, “We’ll give this dog a bath. She’s not coming into this house until she’s _clean_. We’ll feed her after we get that settled.”

Bath. Of course.

Granny fixed an eye on the strange dog she was discussing, freezing her in place, “Stay,” she ordered, as Winry vanished into the house. In that moment, no amount of human pride could force Millie to disobey the order this old lady gave her. This woman might have been tiny, but she was not a person to be taken lightly.

A moment later, Winry reappeared, carrying a caddy filled with grooming supplies with one hand. She could make out shampoo, but given that Den had a shorter coat, there was no brush to deal with her almost wool-like fur. “I don’t have a brush for dogs, but we might have an old spare for people. You’re going to have to brush her fur after she’s clean or it’ll probably tangle,” the girl stated. Winry was a blessing, voicing all the things Millie was unable to say.

“Winry, are you gonna help us?” Al asked, his voice remaining sweet.

The girl stuck her tongue out at the two brothers, “I’m going to go try to find a brush, but you’re responsible for giving her the bath.”

“Alright, I get it.” Edward looked at Winry with irritation, before turning his glare on Millie, who simply stared back. Surely he’d helped to bathe Den, before? He looked uncomfortable.

“It won’t be that bad, brother, she’s probably fine with baths, too.”

Millie glanced at Ed when he was distracted, and then sent Winry a doubtful look. The girl coughed to hide a laugh at her expression, and the chimera lowered her ears, fully aware of it. There were no personal objections to being clean, but given that her cleanliness depended on these two boys, she was a little less sure. Alphonse was probably fine, but Edward seemed like he might get careless and fail to rinse her fur properly. Past the awkwardness of needing someone else to help her, overall, her skin would get really itchy if they didn’t get out all of the suds.

Granny spoke up, then, “Make sure you do a good job rinsing her fur out. If you don’t get all of the soap out of her coat, she’ll get dry skin. Whenever Winry finds that brush, make sure you’re gentle getting out the tangles. Ed, you’re good with your own hair, I trust you can do a good job for the dog.” With this parting comment, the old woman went back into the house, Winry passing the caddie to Edward and following her.

The two brothers turned to look at Millie, who remained still, tilting her head at the two, and glancing between them.

“Well…I guess you lather and I rinse?” Edward mused.

Millie sneezed, before, uncaring for the fact that it would hit Edward and Alphonse, shaking out her coat for the third time, and spraying them with water. It was a warm day, but the water that came out of the well for the hose was not put through any sort of heating, and it was _cold_. She considered the act of drenching her two caretakers to be a form of retribution, one they could get upset over, but couldn’t actually get onto her for. If she had to suffer through this, on the principle of being a dog too dirty to go into the house and use a bathtub with warm water, then these children could endure the misery with her. Never mind the logic that it was Winry and Granny’s fault, Millie _hated_ this.

“Hey! Stop that!” Edward shouted at her, outraged as he tried to wipe water off of his face. By now, the front of his clothing was sticking to him, sopping wet. His brother’s situation was not much better, though Alphonse benefitted from being the one responsible for scrubbing her coat, and stepping back before Ed tried to rinse it.

This whole entire situation made Millie uncomfortable. It was normal for humans to bathe dogs, but she was now realizing the full gravity of what this body meant, more so than when she was roaming around on her own. Her dewclaws were located lower than normal on her legs and were a bit more prominent, though not enough to make people suspicious. They still probably had more mobility, like proper thumbs, but she lacked the flexibility that once permitted her to do things like reach her back. She did not have the longer, delicate fingers her human body possessed, anymore.

She had not properly experimented with her own dexterity in this body, but she knew it was a lot less. For basic needs, Millie was liable to wind up losing her independence, not only because of her lack of human capabilities, but just because of the form she had. The best she could do living without a human ‘master’ was living like a wild animal. Her bear side gave her frighteningly sharp nails that were very prominent, way more so than an average dog, but hunting was probably a skill, even if instincts helped. She hoped her own nails weren’t used to identify her. If she was lucky, people would think she was some unusual case and just say the dog had proper _claws_.

It was…awful, now that she really and truly thought about it. Even if she _knew_ that these two kids, lathering her fur and cleaning it until it was free of dirt, were just trying to take care of her, it felt so, incredibly _wrong_. She would have to live every day, knowing that she would wind up being treated as a lesser creature. Not even really the same rights as a child with a guardian, or a ward of the state, but a _possession_, someone’s dog. If she did not run loose in the wilderness, enduring hunger and the elements, she would wind up having others dictate every aspect of her life. Humans, _non-chimeras_, would dictate what she ate, and when. They would decide what she wore, where she went, whether she got to stay or leave. She was not a person, anymore.

The weight of this sudden realization did not make Millie cry, but she felt a sort of numbness, then. One that left her so deep in thought that she barely responded at all when Alphonse picked up a front leg to work shampoo into it. The desire to fight and mess with the two brothers left her entirely at that moment, while she tried to process how she should even feel. She scarcely registered when she moved the limb Al had been holding and grabbed his wrist between her dewclaw and toes, frighteningly like a person would, and just…held it there. Both children froze.

“I…didn’t know dogs could grab things like this…” Al said nervously, not sure how to respond, awkwardly sitting in a half-crouched position where Millie had caught him, but unable to move.

“Me neither, Al, and we see Den all the time…” Ed was equally confused.

They could not. Normal dogs had a way of grabbing things with their dewclaws, but using a single paw to grip something as well as this? Not possible. It was her _human_ side doing this. Of any part of Millie’s body that really, truly reflected what she was, it was her hands. They looked like paws, but they were still hands, dexterous enough for complex movement of the toes. Her heart felt…a little settled, with that thought, but she was sort of giving herself away, acting weird like this. She needed to do something to avoid scaring the boys. What would a normal dog do, if it could grab someone’s arm?

She hurriedly shifted Al’s palm so that it was resting on her head, closing her eyes and slowly wagging her tail, trying to look like she only wanted someone to scratch her head. Hopefully the two brothers would not think too much about the long pause between her actions, and come to the conclusion that she was just a dog with particularly useful paws, and nothing more.

“Oh, you just want to be pet!” Alphonse smiled, laughing and doing so, getting suds on her head. He still seemed a bit surprised, but she knew it was fine when he continued, picking her leg back up to continue his original task, “I guess she just knows her legs can be used for more than walking, brother.”

Edward gave a small grin, “Kinda cool, really. I wonder if she can open doors?”

Millie had no idea. She thought she might? A proper handle would probably be possible to open, even for a normal dog, but round doorknobs were a bit tricky. Grabbing and twisting at the same time, it was probably an impossible task, or was supposed to be. She would have to look into that. It would get annoying very quickly if people wanted to shut her out of rooms, or keep her anywhere she did not want to be. She was not inclined to destroy people’s things, but she took issue with the concept of people controlling where she came and went.

“Well, we could find out?” Al started on her other front leg, having already gotten the rest of her. Millie would have to let Edward dump water on her head, now that she thought about it, thoughts returning to the bath progress. Her little grabbing stunt meant Alphonse got suds on her face. She was lucky there was not any soap in her eyes, or that would have stung.

She braced herself when Ed came forward with the hose again, tail going still, and shuddering when her face and front was drenched with cold water, yet again. She opened one eye and squinted at him, ears lowering slightly at his grin. _This kid_, she thought, _is enjoying the fact that I hate this, because I sprayed him with water only a few times?_ She snorted, and her tail slowly started wagging, ears rising again.

“I don’t like that look in her eye, Ed.” Alphonse said.

No, because it was a look of mischief. Millie gave only a slight rumble of warning in her throat, before shaking out the water from her fur and drenching the pair again. She then opened her mouth in the dog equivalent of a smile, sharp teeth only emphasizing the expression. Her tail wagged then, seeing Edward’s expression. She continued to look at him meaningfully, a tilt to her head. How would he respond?

Edward yelped, “What’s with you!? Now we’re completely drenched!” Ed complained.

“It’s revenge, brother.” Al helpfully added.

It _was_ revenge. Millie did not expect what followed, though, as Edward turned to his brother, a smirk on his face, “Oh yeah? Well, then.” He put his thumb half-way over the opening of the water hose, making it spray from the pressure, and promptly doused Alphonse, eliciting a cry of surprise. It _was_ pretty cold.

“That’s _freezing_.” Al shook his hands, trying to get some of it off. He was covered in goose bumps, now. “I’ll get you for that,” was the only warning given, before he darted over and snatched the hose from Ed’s hands, immediately turning it on his brother and dousing _him._

It was at this moment that Winry appeared around the side of the house, carrying an old wooden hairbrush, and took in the scene before her, Den by her side. Millie looked over at her, still with a doggy grin on her face, tail whipping back and forth. She let out a howl-bark that sounded a bit like a greeting.

“Oh, she talks!” Winry exclaimed, delighted, while the two boys stopped attacking each other with water, Al holding the hose, having realized she was there. When the young girl looked at the brothers, though, she frowned and put her hands on her hips, “What were you two doing?”

Edward immediately pointed at Millie, “The dog started it!” He exclaimed.

Winry waved her free hand dismissively as she walked up and forced the brush into his hand. “Well, then I’m sure you’re done with her bath. You need to detangle her fur so it doesn’t dry that way.” She cast an eye over at the chimera, who continued to look at the scene with amusement, “Huh, she’s got a cape.” She mused, taking in markings that Millie, unfortunately, could not really see without the help of a mirror.

“It does look a bit like that, doesn’t it?” Ed mused, turning the brush over in his hands. “I mean, we saw them a bit before, but now that she’s clean, it’s really obvious.” He turned to look at her, “Did Granny find anyone that said they lost their dog in town?” He asked.

Winry shook her head, “She called around, but we couldn’t find anyone. We concluded that she’s probably a stray. She seems really sweet, though. Maybe someone abandoned her? She acts like she’s been trained and everything. I don’t know why someone would do that, though.” Winry walked over and scratched her behind the ears.

Edward clenched his hands a bit more tightly at those words, knuckles going white around the brush. “We found her by mom’s grave,” He began, although he looked like he wanted to say more. “There wasn’t anyone else in the cemetery, and she had a lot of dirt on her, like she’d been running around a bunch. She feels…thin, not really bad, but like she hasn’t eaten in a few days. Whoever left her, they’re long gone.”

Al looked at Millie with something like sadness. She had been running through the countryside for several days, Ed was entirely correct in his guess. She knew her body was a bit lean naturally, like a sighthound—deep ribs, long legs, tucked stomach—but she had no idea. She felt guilty, though, that someone felt the need to say it. Her ‘owner’ was a crazy alchemist who rambled about her use for the government, and she had every reason for fleeing. She was not an innocent animal, though, like these children thought.

“Ed, can we keep her?” Alphonse suddenly spoke up, looking to his brother, his eyes pleading.

“Al, we can’t just keep every stray we find!” He responded…except…that protest did not sound as strong as it probably should have been…Like Ed was only rejecting ownership reluctantly, and not because he genuinely wanted to.

“She’s not a normal stray, though.” Alphonse went over and wrapped his arms around Millie’s neck in a hug, and she quietly stood there, waiting to see what would happen. Her tail had stopped wagging, and the smile was gone, replaced with an anxious pant instead. “She’s a dog that’s already trained, and she’s good. She likes us, but we don’t know if she’d like someone else, even if they wanted to take her.”

“Al, it’s only the two of us, do you really think we can take care of a dog by ourselves?” Ed seemed to plead, almost like a last resort.

Winry suddenly grew furious, and stomped her foot, “Ed! Did you forget about us!” She fumed, making him shrink back, holding his hands up surrender.

“Ah…No, no…but you already have Den and…”

“You already did one of the harder things that involve taking care of a dog. You remember to feed them every day, give them clean water, and groom them when needed, and sometimes you take them to the vet. The two of you are alone in that house, I think she’d do you some good.” Winry groaned with frustration, “But…I can’t tell you what to do. We still have to take care of her until she has an owner, if you don’t keep her…and then if you do that, when someone_ does_ come to take her, it’ll really hurt, because you’re already attached, and she’ll start thinking that the people looking after her are her family.”

Ed stood there, frozen, eyes darting back and forth between Millie, Al, and Winry, for a long period of silence, before he heaved a long sigh, and put his hand over his face, “I’m…losing here, huh?” He slowly removed his hand and walked over, offering his palm to the chimera. She looked it over, before quietly giving his palm a gentle lick, and nudging her nose into it. She felt bad, knowing she was an older person asking young children to provide her food and a roof over her head, but…she did like them.

Winry’s words struck a chord, bordering between human empathy and what she thought was her protective canine instinct. ‘Alone in that house’…were these kids living in that one home from earlier, without any parents? They had people like Granny and Winry nearby, but still, that left them with only one adult, who did not live in the same household. She knew that their mother had passed, but she had yet to hear any mention of a father, and it seemed he was not even in the picture, at all. She knew what it felt like, not having anyone else, so she sympathized, even more then. The whole reason she became a chimera was probably because nobody was there to worry if she disappeared.

Millie…wanted to protect these boys. Perhaps they would have to provide food and water and baths, but she could _be_ a guard dog. She was big, could run very fast, and she knew her teeth and claws were sharp enough. As weird as she felt about doing typical dog things, she felt, deep down, that she would not hesitate to tear someone apart, if they tried hurting someone she cared about. If she had to follow these kids for the rest of her life, somehow, she thought she would be fine with that.

“Please, brother?” Al begged.

Edward sighed, “…Alright…we can keep her.”

Alphonse threw his arms around his brother, “Thank you thank you!”

He kept repeating it, over and over, expressing his gratitude.

Millie felt like she was being given a purpose…but there was no small amount of guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Millie: These kids are alone, I should protect them.
> 
> Al: So what should we name her?
> 
> Ed: Uh...Fluffy?
> 
> Millie: *Stares in horror*
> 
> Al: Brother, pick a different name, please.


	2. Finding Words to Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Millie gets a new name, and shocks people on the same day she met them by giving her secret away, rather than letting feelings of guilt fester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the kind words and support! The first chapter was an introduction of sorts, and this one is very important for several reasons. First, Millie gets her dog name! Second, as she was never intended from the beginning to spend the entire story nonverbal and limited to dog noises, she speaks human words for the first time, and discusses a little bit about her origins (Not anything new, though).
> 
> I should also say, this chapter fought me, hard, to be written, and as quick as I've gotten it up, I spent a lot of time on it. I had plenty of inspiration, but trying to keep everyone in-character for what happens in it is a challenge (I hope I succeeded), and the situation portrayed is really bizarre. I can't say I have a real-life comparison for it. I know that having Millie speak this early may come across as hasty, but keep in mind she is outright getting adopted by the Elrics by the end of the first chapter, and this one solidifies their decision. Given that they're bringing her into their home and taking on the responsibility of caring for her, she feels extremely guilty not saying anything. She does explain herself, though, and her own reasons.
> 
> Keep in mind, Millie talking to the Rockbells and Elrics does not mean the end of dog shenanigans. She will still have to play the part of a friendly, 'talkative' dog in public, and will definitely take advantage of that fact to mess with people (Because you gotta have fun somehow, right?) Anyone that makes themselves an easy target is going to get trolled. What will make it funnier is that Edward and Alphonse can probably join in on this, too. By the time the main part of the story appears, they'll probably have lots of practice working together and communicating without Millie actually having to speak to get messages across.
> 
> I have so many targets in mind (Diabolical laughter)

After combing out their new dog’s fur and giving her some of Den’s food, Edward had, upon watching her eat, concluded that whoever her former owner had been, they must have spoiled her. She had stared at the kibble in the bowl, and then taken the first bite slowly, as if she had never eaten it before. The dog seemed to choke the food down, like it was one of the most disgusting things she had ever eaten. Even so, she devoured all of the bowl’s contents, not even leaving crumbs. Ed could only guess that her hunger won out over any refined palette she had developed in the past. He wondered if dogs understood gratitude, because she had looked at him and Alphonse as if they were the most important people in the world, even though the food had tasted terrible.

Ed only slightly regretted that he’d caved, when Al begged to keep her. His main worry had been that she would take time away from their research, but when the dog pressed her nose into his palm, almost like a silent plea, he was unable to say anything else. Al had a habit of picking up stray animals, from puppies to kittens. Ed had never really had a problem with rejecting pets, before, and generally, baby _anything_ was more adorable than something fully-grown. Even so, the one stray he had been unable to turn down was a fully-grown dog. What won him over had less to deal with her appearance, and more to deal with her obvious intelligence. When she looked at things, Edward could almost see the gears in her head turning.

She _was_, though, a pretty dog. Her build reminded him of a bigger, more muscular version of a greyhound, like the one time a fancy person had come through the market years ago, walking theirs. She had unmistakably long legs, and a long snout with big pointed ears. Her fur was soft, and it almost looked like sheep’s wool. It had a bit of length to it, and grew in wavy curls. Her eyes were a warm, dark brown color, and her nose, paw pads, and skin in general seemed to be black underneath the fur. She was mostly this pale, stormy-grey color, almost silver, but over the top of her head, neck, shoulders, and back, the fur turned distinctly darker, almost like a cape or hood. It was almost black on her head and neck.

The dog had some of the longest, sharpest nails he had ever seen, but Pinako had taken a single look and declared that it was natural, and not overgrown. She’d marveled at the dog’s feet, in general. Edward should have known that would get her attention, given Den’s automail. It bothered him, though, because the dog seemed to almost get _scared_ when Pinako was looking at her paws. It seemed like the dog knew her feet were weird, because there was rambling about the dewclaw morphology allowing greater dexterity and a proper grip, and something about a wrinkled texture on the pads.

“Your new dog,” Pinako stated, after a few moments of fiddling with the poor creature’s toes, “-has thumbs.”

“Yeah, she really seems to use them, too. Brother and I were talking about if she could open doors or not.” Alphonse hopped slightly.

The old woman hummed thoughtfully, “She might. Keep in mind, that isn’t always a good thing. A dog that knows how to open doors can get into any room it wants that isn’t locked. They can open cabinets and cause all sorts of mischief. She seems well-trained, but an independent dog will do what it wants. You two are used to studying alchemy in your house without interruptions, but you’ll have to make time for her. Intelligent dogs need motivation and respect to obey their owners. Simply wanting to make you happy isn’t enough.”

The dog’s ears perked up, and she glanced between Edward and Alphonse, tilting her head sideways, mouth open in a smile. There was something like comprehension in her eyes, and she wagged her tail. Under the impression that, _yes_, the dog did, in fact, understand what Pinako was saying, Edward found this seemingly innocent gesture a little more ominous. Ed _hoped_ the dog respected him and his brother, but since she was ultimately bigger than him and Al—Ed was _not_ a little micro pipsqueak, the dog was just _freakishly huge_—she would be hard to control if she wanted to cause problems.

“Well, I’m sure we can handle it,” Ed responded. They _could_, though he really, really hoped that the dog would behave. He and Al still needed to gather supplies for their planned transmutation. They could easily do that at the same time that they were getting the necessities for the dog, like a bag of food. Technically, food was the _only_ thing they needed to buy pre-made. He and Al knew a lot of arrays at this point, and they could easily transmute a collar, bed, and anything else from raw materials. He was already thinking up designs for the collar, maybe something red with silver spikes, and a skull on the front.

“Speaking of things you need to handle,” Winry chimed in from where she was sitting on the sofa, reading an automail book, “You need to name her.”

Edward and his brother both froze at that moment, and they exchanged glances. Did they have to have one right away?

“You didn’t even think about it yet, did you?” Winry’s tone was a bit disappointed.

“I didn’t want to pick something everyone else would pick…but her fur is really soft, like that time we got to play with bunnies at the market. I was thinking Bunny.” Al said, hesitantly at first.

Ed thought about it for a bit, “I was thinking Bear or Wolf, but…she’s not a scary dog. As big as she is, Bunny suits her better. Plus it’s not anything anyone else would think of, either. It sounds like a girl name, too.”

Pinako gently scratched the dog’s ears, “Bunny it is, then,” She walked over to a cabinet that was low to the ground and pulled out an unopened, tiny bag of dog food, “This was meant to be our extra bag for Den, but for the time being, you need to have a means of feeding her.”

She fixed a sharp eye on the two brothers, and Edward defiantly folded his arms, meeting her gaze, while his brother flinched. What was the short old hag going to go on about now?

“Edward, Alphonse, I expect you to go to the market and get supplies for taking care of Bunny in the near future. If not this evening, then tomorrow morning. Take Den with you. You need to get another bag of dog food made for large breeds, both for your house and to replace our spare.” She dragged the bag over and Alphonse hefted it up easily; he and Ed both were strong for ten and eleven-year-olds, respectively, thanks to their special training.

“What else do we need?” Al asked. Ed thought he had a good mental list, but then again, they weren’t Den’s primary caregivers, and that meant it would be easy to forget something.

“She needs a collar—I’d suggest a metal nameplate over a tag if you don’t want noise when she’s wandering around—and a leash. She needs shampoo, a brush with stiff bristles, and a wire comb, too. Don’t try to take shortcuts and create the grooming supplies with alchemy.” She gave them both a stern look, at that, “And then…the next basics are easier. A proper bed, some treats if you plan on teaching her tricks, and a few toys as well so she’s entertained. If you get something for her to chew on, give her a large rawhide bone, and toss it if she starts eating large pieces. Don’t give her actual bones.” She looked at Bunny thoughtfully, “Let’s see…what else?”

Winry hopped up from the sofa and set her book down, walking over to pet the dog, “A file for her claws. I wouldn’t try clipping them. If you get the quick by accident, it’ll hurt her and it’ll bleed a lot, but you need to make sure they don’t overgrow. Don’t forget about the dewclaws, either, or they can catch on things or cut into her leg. If you just file the tips a bit it’ll dull them so she doesn’t scratch up the floors or furniture as much. Maybe get her a blanket, too, and you need bowls for food and water.” She then turned a glare on Ed, and he flinched, “If you plan on _making_ a collar, don’t go overboard with skulls and spikes! You have no taste, and she’s a pretty girl dog.”

Edward swore under his breath.

“Language, brother!” Al admonished.

Bunny chimed in with an almost disapproving-sounding whine.

“See, even the dog agrees!” Winry gestured wildly.

“What do you mean, no taste?! It would be cool!” He turned to look at the canine in question, “Right, Bunny?”

Bunny, the traitor, lifted her snout and looked away with a snort.

Alphonse, _also_ a traitor, just started cackling at that. “Maybe let me and Winry decide what the collar looks like, brother. I think Bunny agrees with us more than you on this.” He added. Throwing salt on the wound.

Winry clasped her hands together, delighted to be included on the planning, “Wait, you’ll let me help? Oh! I know a lot about engraving metal, we could do little plates or rivets with designs on them!”

Al, giggled with delight, “It sounds like a great idea, Winry!”

Edward growled with frustration, “Fine!” he huffed. He looked over at Pinako, “What time is it?”

The old woman glanced at the clock in the living room, “Two in the afternoon. You’ve got time to go to the market, unless you’d rather take Bunny to your house and get her settled. You’ll have to drop the food off, either way. She seems content to follow you two, but some people might not like that she’s missing a lead.”

Bunny whined at the mention of having a leash. Ed got the impression she disliked wearing one.

“Why?” He asked, “They let Den come with us without one.”

“Den is a familiar dog, and while I doubt Bunny would misbehave, nobody has seen her before, and she’s a large dog with rather long claws. She dwarfs you and Al.” Pinako explained.

_“Who are you calling a tiny little shrimp that you can’t see with a magnifying glass!” _Ed snarled, stomping his feet.

“She didn’t say that, brother.”

Bunny made a rumbling sound, almost like a hum, as if echoing Alphonse.

Pinako, rather than actually engage in an argument about height with Ed, revolving around the fact that she was _tiny_ and Ed was _still growing you couldn’t judge him for it_, pulled out her pipe and led the way outside the house, “Get going, before it gets dark. Come over for dinner if you plan on working together to design a collar. You can leave Bunny here with us, for the time being.” She stood aside to let them pass.

With Al holding the bag of dog food, he couldn’t actually pet the dog to say goodbye, but he yelled it as he left. “Be a good girl for Granny!”

Ed went over, himself, and ruffled the fur on her head—it was _really_ soft—and followed after his brother.

“Why _black_ leather, Al? You could have at least grabbed something with color! What’s the bottle of milk for? I’m _not_ drinking that!” Edward was loaded down with two bags of dog food, but that did not stop him from fussing about the materials his brother had chosen to purchase for making Bunny’s collar. Mixed in with the bone meal they had purchased as a source of phosphorous were several other odd items, unrelated to their transmutation plans. There was a shiny length of chrome-plated chain, as well as a spool of copper wire, a tiny strip of tin, and some metal nails that were probably aluminum. Al had also grabbed a bottle of milk, much to Ed’s annoyance.

“Brother, I still think you’re being ridiculous about not wanting to drink milk, but I bought it so I would have glass as a material.” Al said, hefting his bag of…random collar things and transmutation supplies on one arm, and a bag of pure dog supplies on the other.

The fact that Edward and his brother were alchemists had become relatively well-known in a small town like Resembool. They were both extremely skilled despite their ages, and it meant they could get away with purchasing a lot of really random items, nobody questioning them about what they were doing (Human transmutation was still illegal, even though they were just going to bring mom back). There was, though, some interest when one of the bags Alphonse was carrying turned out to be supplies for a dog _other_ than Den.

Den, trudging alongside the two, opened his mouth in a wide, gaping yawn, uncaring for the fact that the two siblings were bickering.

Edward, registering mid-rant the mention of _glass_, stopped raging about the injustices of having to drink milk, to actually ask what the materials were for. “Why something breakable like glass?” He asked, “Something decorative?...Wait…copper…tin…isn’t that….”

“We can make red glass, and green and blue, too. I wasn’t leaving out color, I just think making the collar _solid_ red is too much. Bunny is a girl dog; she needs a pretty collar. We can still dye fabric or the leather itself, it’s not like we haven’t changed black to something else using alchemy before, but I wanted the option. We might not even use glass.” Alphonse said.

Admittedly, glass chemistry wasn’t the same as making regular dyes and pigments. The final composition of the glass could drastically change what it looked like. While Ed stuck to red as his favorite color, Al had gone through an entire phase based entirely around ‘what colors does it make?’ and did all sorts of crazy things. The benefit, though, was that he still remembered what elements combined in glass to make which colors.

They arrived back at the Rockbell’s house, where Al set down one of the bags and knocked on the door. “Granny! We’re back!” he called.

At first there was only muffled noise, before the doorknob rattled with the sound of it unlocking, and Winry’s voice became audible on the other side of the door, “-Go on, you can do it!”

A few moments passed before anything happened. Slowly, the doorknob rotated, and the door creaked open inward, Winry and Pinako both standing a bit too far back to have done it, themselves.

“What’s going-“ Ed began, before Bunny’s head peeked out from the edge of the door, followed by a tail, going back and forth in the brother’s line of sight, wagging like she was having the time of her life.

“Bunny can open doors, with _round _knobs! Grandma and I went into the workshop, and she started doing it, trying to follow us.” Winry spoke excitedly.

Bunny, seemingly interpreting this as praise, gave a tiny yip of glee, before stepping back from the door _on her hind legs._ It didn’t seem like she was super well balanced, and she went back down onto four limbs almost immediately, but she looked extremely pleased with herself.

“So you taught her that while we were gone?” Edward asked, a little bit mystified.

“No, she already seemed to know how, she just had to do it a few times to really get it right. We decided this would be a fun surprise for when you got back.” Winry said, with Pinako giving a quiet smile beside her.

Bunny walked up to the brothers, tail whipping, and sniffed at them and their bags. Den slid into the house past her.

“Bunny, _move_, girl, this is heavy.” Ed’s request was met with immediate obedience, as he stepped into the house and set the bags of dog food down to the side. Al followed him in and did the same.

“So what’d you get?” Winry leaned over to look into the bags.

“We got some black leather, chrome-plated chains,” Bunny’s head tilted, then, as if she were contemplating the items, “Stuff for making accents, and some nails for making a nameplate.” Al responded, his brother huffing with irritation that he was not allowed to participate in what had become a very special event, designing the dog’s collar. “We’ve got a ton of fabric to make a bed, and a blanket, too, and we got the grooming supplies and a leash. Brother and I want to make the bowls for food and water, and we decided we should take Bunny with us to pick out toys or treats.”

Winry’s began digging into the bag of collar supplies, but began frowning at the miscellaneous items in it, “Bone meal?”

“We didn’t have enough phosphorous for something we wanted to study, so we picked that up, too.” Alphonse concealed the truth, that it was an ingredient for the chemical makeup of a human body, easily.

Winry, though, had already pulled out the sheet of tin and copper wire, “Are we using multiple metals as accents? Copper corrodes, you know…oh wait tin makes bronze…”

“Remember when Al was making pigments and just coloring everything?” Edward asked, getting her attention, “Those are all things that can make different colors in glass. You’ve got red, green, and blue as options.” He was proud of his brother, even if it annoyed him that he was not allowed to contribute to the design. “We’ll have lots of tin and copper leftover for all sorts of projects, though.”

“Alchemy freak,” Winry huffed, digging into the bag.

“Crazy gearhead,” He shot right back, as she withdrew the most dreaded thing in the bag.

“A bottle of milk?” She smirked at him, “You gonna drink it, Ed?”

Edward immediately went on the defensive, no way was he _ever_ drinking that awful substance, “I hate milk, I refuse to drink it! The bottle is for the glass!”

“It needs to be gone from the bottle if you want to use it. If you don’t drink your milk, you’ll stay small forever.” Pinako interrupted.

_“Who are you calling a pipsqueak because he doesn’t drink milk, you micro hag?!”_ Edward abruptly began shouting.

“_You’re a shrimp, Edward, just drink your milk!”_ Pinako fired back, also quickly progressing to yelling.

This argument continued, while Winry and Al exchanged resigned looks. This would continue for a while, until they ran out of creative insults. Hopefully, they would get the ceremonial argument about milk and Ed’s height over with early, and they could have a peaceful dinner, versus listening to the two shouting. It was not exactly a serious argument, as intense as it looked and sounded. Ed would outright _punch_ someone if he’d really thought their statements were unforgivable, and Pinako was roughly the same size as the elder Elric, so she could get away with it, when anyone else would be in major trouble.

Bunny watched the altercation between the two, before glancing at Winry and the younger brother, giving a tiny whine. “It’s okay, Bunny,” Alphonse hugged her around her neck, the dog having to lower herself a good bit to let him do this comfortably, and even then he almost lifted off of the ground. “Ed just really hates milk.”

“Come on, we can take shelter in the workshop and sketch out designs. I don’t want Ed getting involved in that part.” Winry wrinkled her nose at the concept of letting him ‘help’ with what might otherwise be a beautiful design, and promptly ruining it by going overkill with skulls and spikes.

“We can let him help with the alchemy part, right?” Al asked, perhaps rhetorically.

“Well, yeah, this is special. Leaving him completely out wouldn’t be fair.” Winry walked over and patted the dog’s head, “Come on, Bunny, you can come with us into the workshop.”

“Alright, so, this pattern? You sure? I mean it’s sort of like flowers_._” Edward’s smile and tone betrayed the fact that he thought the sample design was actually lovely. The end collar was still a black leather base, but all the metal portions of it were going to have a chrome finish. The sketch had a pattern ringing around it of large, singular button-like studs, with delicate, almost floral-looking forms, and glass beads in their centers for color. Between these studs were smaller flat rivets that were smooth domes, two stacked on top of each other. The rivets and studs alternated all around the collar, and after some debating, the color of the glass beads alternated in all three colors, red, green, and blue (Alphonse and Winry drank the milk). There was a spot just past the buckle for a plate on the collar where Bunny’s name could be engraved. Winry’s drafting skills that she had been developing for automail meant the boys had a perfect product to visualize for the end result of their transmutation.

“Don’t lie, Ed, you love it.” Winry stuck her tongue out at him.

“…Yeah, Bunny’s going to look amazing.”

Pinako, meanwhile, was downstairs making dinner, while the three children had gathered together to begin making the collar inside the workshop. Everyone was excited, working on a project that all three of them had effectively contributed to.

Bunny, on the other hand, looked…sad, for some reason. She curled up in the corner of the workshop, an almost desperate look in her gaze, that steadily grew worse as time passed. By the time the children had begun sketching out a transmutation circle on the floor, it was no longer possible for them to ignore it. She looked as though she were sick, or at the very least, distressed about something.

“Bunny? You okay girl?” Al noticed, getting up from where he and Edward had been on their hands and knees, rubbing chalk dust off on his trousers, and walking over to her. He knelt down and tried to look at her face. His brother joined him, and Winry glanced up from where she was prepping some ingredients for the transmutation, per the brother’s instructions.

There was a really long pause, during which Winry joined them, where the dog did not do anything, before barely, her head shifted. She lifted it up and tilted it, looking at them, _thinking_, in that way that she did. There was something almost agonizing in her gaze, before she seemed to think of something that made it disappear. She slowly stood up, and walked over to the transmutation circle, inspecting it, as if looking for something in each symbol.

“Oh, don’t walk on it, we might have to redo it if you do!” Al warned.

Instead of touching the circle, Bunny slowly lifted the chalk they had been using from the ground in her mouth, and walked a few steps away, setting it down in a careful fashion that was far more delicate than one would expect from a dog, one end still in her mouth. She wedged it between the toes of her right paw, crushing them together, and when she lifted her head away, balancing on three legs, she was holding the chalk.

Gently, like she was afraid of breaking something, she turned her gaze towards the floor as she set the chalk down again. The children found themselves looking on, mystified. Words, barely legible because of how _light_ the dog was pressing to avoid losing the chalk, appeared on the floor.

‘Edward’, ‘Alfonse’, ‘Winry’, ‘Granny’, and ‘Den’.

It made no difference that the dog misspelled Alphonse’s name, the simple fact was that the dog could _write_, and had specifically written _their_ names, and Granny and Den’s, too.

“The dog can write.” Edward said with disbelief. “The dog can _write_. How…?”

Bunny made a tiny bark that was more like a huff, and set the chalk down again. She wrote the word ‘Alchemist’ and looked up at him, ears twitching, as if waiting for a reply.

“Wait, are you saying you belong to an alchemist? You’re not a stray?” Edward felt…disappointed about that idea.

Bunny rumbled with what seemed to be disapproval, and put a slash across the word ‘Alchemist’ before drawing a circle around ‘Edward’ and ‘Alphonse’ (misspelled). It was at this moment that the chalk slipped out from between her toes, and she stomped the now-free foot on the floor, irritated. Although it was a dog equivalent, she glared at it as it rolled away. Despite being able to grip larger objects with ease, writing utensils were clearly tricky for her, and she was probably frustrated by her own lack of dexterity.

“Brother, I think she’s telling us that she can write _because_ of an alchemist.”

The dog turned to look at him, giving a tiny noise that was probably meant to affirm the message. She bobbed her head up and down, and then it was obvious that she was telling them _yes_, an alchemist had somehow made it possible for her to write, and perhaps read, as well.

“You understood our question. You can understand human speech. You know exactly what we’re saying.” Edward breathed.

The dog squinted at that for a long pause, before giving a hesitant nod. Bunny then turned to stare back at the chalk again, before reaching out a paw and trying to drag it back to herself, perhaps wanting to write more. This time, she tried lowering herself to the ground and wedged the chalk in a sort of fisting motion between her digits, using her dewclaw. When she pressed down on an empty patch of floor, this time, the lines were far more solid, but the process of writing seemed much harder, coming less naturally.

‘Secret,’ she wrote, before looking back up at them. She stared, hard, something like a plea in her eyes, before she wrote another word…‘Keep?’

“You want us to keep it a secret?” Winry asked, “Why?”

Bunny seemed conflicted at this, for a long moment, before her jaw opened. She closed it again, visibly swallowed, and then opened it again, taking a deep breath.

“I…can talk, too.”…_words_, clear as day. Hesitant, and guilt apparent in their tone.

The impact of this was enough to make everyone freeze.

Al gave a slightly hysterical giggle, his face looking pale, “Dogs…shouldn’t….be able to…” He wanted to complete it, probably, with any number of words. Read, write, understand human language, _speak_.

“No, they should not.” Bunny agreed to the incomplete statement, her tone filled with something like grief. Her voice sounded vaguely feminine, but was rough and distorted by her body’s size and shape. There was a sort of growling resonance in it that was unattainable by human throats. She seemed conflicted, before speaking again, “…but if even after this, you still want to keep me…you have a right to know.”

Ed let out a shaky breath, trying to steel the nerves that just left him, “…if you could talk…why…didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Bunny lowered her head, ashamed, “Dangerous,” The word was almost whispered, before dark eyes, still so very much like a normal, loving _dog_, met his, “I never wanted to be like this. If I did not speak now, then you would know later…and then it would be even worse.”

“This…this is so wrong.” Winry’s voice trembled and she put a hand over her mouth, breathing hard, and perhaps on the verge of tears, but from what emotion, nobody could tell.

“I thought writing, first, would make it easier.” The talking dog seemed to shrink, in spite of being _massive_, compared to these three kids in front of her. “I wanted to tell you…I still want to be your dog…but…” Those eyes looked back at them, “I would understand, if you didn’t want me, now…this isn't normal.”

Edward was frozen, for a few moments, trying to piece together what was happening. Bunny looked nearly identical to a normal dog, but here she was, reading, writing, and _talking_ to them. Some part of him wanted to get upset, that he and Al had been prepared to adopt her as their pet, and that she had waited _so long_ to tell them… but…Even in his racing thoughts, he _knew_ that she felt guilty about it, and that she was telling them this, _now_, because once the collar was made, there would probably be no turning back. Even now, though, a part of him could only think about how stupidly _happy_ Bunny had been, when she had realized that someone wanted her.

Saving him from saying something stupid, Winry spoke first, “How…would you even know what to say or do?” She asked, eyes shimmering with tears about to fall, “You’re probably the only dog that talks…if people knew and they didn’t care, they’d lock you up somewhere, wouldn’t they?”

Bunny flinched, looking down at her paws, “Yes,” She responded, “The alchemist who made me…he….” She looked back at them, “…He hurt me, and I ran away.” She took what must have been a steadying breath, before speaking again, “Are you angry?”

Alphonse found his words, next, “No…just…shocked…” he forced an unsure grin onto his features, “You were scared, and it took a lot of courage for you to tell us, didn’t it?”

Bunny made a faint canine smile that seemed weak, almost as if it were painful, at that, only for her eyes to widen as the younger Elric stepped up to her and wrapped his arms around her front in a hug. Almost hesitantly, she freed her right paw, and rested that forelimb across Al’s back, trembling as she returned the embrace, like she was so scared of hurting _him_, and not the other way around.

Edward finally felt himself snap to clarity, at the sight, and stood up abruptly, marching right past the hugging boy and dog, over to the transmutation circle that he and Al had made. The last ingredients to make the collar had been set down by Winry around it, right before the dog had begun doing strange things. He grabbed the items and set them down into the center of the circle, almost forcefully.

“Ed?” Bunny called his name, uncertainly, and unable to turn to watch him, so focused on his brother, still not letting her go, but not sure what he was doing behind her.

There was a spark of light and the sounds of a transmutation, a shuffling, and then Edward walked right back around to where Bunny could see him again, holding the collar that the three children had designed in his hand, a fierce glint in his eye. “We said we would keep you,” He began, forcing his voice not to waver, “You said you wanted to be our dog.” He held out the collar to her, as Al twisted around and looked over her forelimb at his brother. “I don’t care that you can read or write or talk, or that you might not even really be a dog. You said you _wanted _to be with us.”

Bunny looked so surprised that it broke his heart a little, “I can stay?”

“It’s _your_ collar. Is ‘Bunny’ still fine?” Ed asked, almost challenging.

The dog produced an expression that conveyed so much relief, and perhaps joy that was not possible to express, “I like the name you gave me.”

Edward shook the collar in his hand, “Then take the collar. We’ll work something out.”

“…Okay…”

There was an awkward pause, during which Alphonse slipped out from beneath Bunny’s forelimb, and Winry composed herself, and Ed _continued_ to hold the collar out to their new dog—if she was even really a dog—before he began to feel confused.

“Ed?”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t put it on by myself.”

Edward’s face turned red with a blush. He had completely forgotten in the moment. She had a lot of dexterity, but that still was not enough for her to actually wrap the collar around her neck and fasten the buckle. _Stupid._ The look she was giving him suggested she was feeling almost as embarrassed as he did.

Winry started giggling, then, in spite of the fact that she had been crying, only moments before.

“Shut up Winry.” He snapped, nothing even having been said to prompt the comment, blush intensifying.

“You’re the coolest, Brother, you said everything we _wanted_ to say.” Al’s voice was sincere, not even sarcastic, but in the context, only succeeded in making the girl laugh even louder.

“He is,” Bunny agreed, looking at Edward and the other two children as if the entire world meant nothing compared to them, in this moment. Those dark eyes did not look human, but they twinkled with that same intelligence and depth.

Deciding to hide his own blunder, the elder Elric walked up and began fastening the collar around Bunny’s neck.

Alphonse gave her one of his sweet smiles, “Bunny?” He asked.

“Yes?” She looked over at him, ears pricked and alert, while Ed finished tightening the collar and stepped back to admire how it looked.

“You got everyone’s name spelled right except mine.”

Her ears lowered and she made an almost sheepish look, “Oh…”

After the dinner, and the initial shock surrounding the fact that Bunny could talk and had human-level intellect had dissipated—Pinako had merely raised an eyebrow, the most muted response _ever_—she ordered the three children to stay inside and mind their own business while she spoke with the dog on the porch. Did they listen? _No_.

They eavesdropped through the window instead, making sure to hide. It was Bunny they worried about spotting them, she was so _big_. Pinako was not much taller than the children, and as she smoked her pipe, probably would not care even if they _were_ listening. Although Bunny had explained to the children that she had been _made_ by an alchemist and run away, how much more would she tell an adult?

“Bunny, I don’t think you mean any harm to those children. You’ve made it very clear you care about those two boys, already. You’ve already formed a connection with them, and you’ve apologized a great deal, for the fact that you did not say anything about your situation immediately.” She began, blowing a plume of smoke as the sun began to set, “I do have questions, though.” The old woman fixed a sharp gaze on her, where Bunny sat back on her haunches, head tilted as she listened intently. “What are you, exactly? How did that alchemist make you?”

Bunny was silent, for a long time, before she took a shaky breath, “Do you know what a chimera is?” She asked.

Meanwhile, Winry was looking at the two boys quizzically, and they exchanged knowing looks. They might have suspected it, but a chimera that could _speak_ sounded like something impossible, or at least, something that was very, very advanced. It was a shame that the alchemist was a bad person, or they would have wanted to see his notes.

Bunny continued, after she got no response, “A chimera is a creature made by combining two or more other creatures, using alchemy…like if you wanted to fuse a lizard and a cat together, you _could_…if you knew how.”

“-And you’re one of these chimeras?” Pinako asked, more like a conclusion, and simply nudging Bunny to continue with her explanation.

Bunny nodded, only slightly, “A chimera made using dogs…my creator…said a lot about them. Amestrian wolfhound, Kuvasz, and Aerugonian wolfdog…” Her ears lowered a bit and she looked out over the rolling pastures of Resembool, turning darker as stars began to twinkle, the horizon pink and purple. She mumbled the last few, “brown bear…spiny mouse…and…” her voice caught in her throat.

The three children inside strained to listen.

“What else? I’m not angry at you, Bunny. You’re not in any trouble. You have hard circumstances, and this is a small town in the middle of nowhere. If there’s something you need to say, it’s safe to say it, here.”

“Human.” Her voice trembled a bit.

Pinako puffed more smoke from her pipe, “-And human transmutation is illegal.” She mused, “I can see why you didn’t want anyone you couldn’t trust knowing about you.”

Bunny looked up at the sky, “I…didn’t know how to tell the kids. How do you even say it, or how would you even react? Edward and Alphonse are alchemists, and that’s what they love to do. When they were making my collar, I just remember having this brief, irrational _fear_, that the circle would have something like the thing I saw that did this to me. I had to look at it, just to reassure myself they wouldn’t…and _that’s_ the worst part.”

She looked back down at Pinako, “I know they’re good kids, they _wouldn’t_ do that to me or anyone else. I don’t hate alchemy, or alchemists, but I don’t know anything about it. I’m not stupid, I know a lot of different things, but…not knowing what those symbols mean, _scares_ me. I’d recognize in a heartbeat the array that gave me this body, but what about everything else? Alchemy can be used for a lot of good things, but it can _hurt_ people, too.” There was a dog-like whine, then, “If they were messing with something dangerous, would I even know? I’m more than some pet, I’m made out of guardians, and I can _feel_ those instincts _screaming_ at me.”

Pinako hummed thoughtfully, “Well, then ask them to teach you. You’re going to be their family, now, aren’t you? That collar on your neck makes you just as much a part as anyone else in this household. Don’t be an outsider.”

Bunny looked at Pinako, just contemplating her words, before a canine smile appeared on her face, “Thank you so much, Mrs. Rockbell. I will ask.”

“Please, call me Pinako.” Her eyes then drifted over to the window, and Bunny followed her gaze. Both of them caught sight of three young children hurriedly ducking down to hide from view.

“Not very good at hiding, are they?” Pinako commented, humor in her voice.

Bunny was not really that upset, if the children heard her. She had not said anything more distressing, today, that was not already at least strongly implied. “No,” She agreed, her tail wagging slowly.

“Not worried that they might have heard you mention your makeup?” the older woman inquired.

“As long as they don’t start asking me weird questions about animal facts.” She responded, “I’ll act like a walking encyclopedia when I feel like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed, at a store at the market, buying another random thing for transmutations: I ran ahead so I could start looking for things, but Al's bringing her so we can pick out toys she likes.
> 
> Shop Owner: Bunny, huh? I bet she's cute
> 
> Al, walking into the store with a dog whose head is level with the Shop Owner's chest: Okay, brother, we're finally here.
> 
> Ed: This is Bunny.
> 
> Shop Owner: So...how did you pick the name?
> 
> Al: Oh, that's easy, her fur is really soft!
> 
> (Special thanks to lonelyroads for giving me Bunny's name idea, and this scenario portrayed above)


	3. The World, Cruel and Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three weeks after living with them, Bunny learns the secret the brothers are keeping in the worst way possible. All she can do is pick up the pieces and try to keep herself together. She does an admirable job of it, but there is nothing beautiful about this situation, in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone keeps talking about looking forward to this chapter, and I can only think about how I've cried a total of probably five or six times in the process of writing it. This thing was agony to write, trying to figure out Bunny's perspective in the mix, given that we have no plot without the mess occurring. Without further ado, I bring you the chapter during which Edward and Alphonse attempt human transmutation. The actual event itself, specifically their lines, are close or even identical, at times, to ones from the 2003 anime and Brotherhood. These two adaptations showed different perspectives, one from Alphonse, and the other from Edward. The lines also had differences. I ultimately think it was better from the 2003 version, but there's some very heart-wrenching lines said in Brotherhood. I used these lines because they were so well-thought, so keep that in mind when reading. There are some minor differences due to Bunny's presence, namely, her trying to figure out how to stop them, but again, without this horrible accident, there is no plot. It does start to deviate, though, from this chapter forward, in the main plot, and entire events will wind up framed differently in the future.
> 
> Bunny gets a lot of development in this chapter. I hope everyone likes it! This is the last post for Thanksgiving break, so expect the update speed to slow down a great deal after this. Also, the adorable mythological critter that Bunny 'invented' is actually inspired by an art piece from an artist who does these adorable linocuts on etsy.

“So…I know you keep saying it’s for transmutations, but what? The soil amendments you keep buying are all piling up in the study. Do we really need this much?” Bunny spoke aloud, eyeing the bag of saltpeter that the boys had bought while they were at the market. Now that they were far enough away from other people, it was safe to be verbal again. Considering the fact that the bag had warnings for inhalation, skin irritation, and flammability, she was amazed at how relaxed the locals were, letting two kids purchase it. Even if Edward and Alphonse _were_ prodigy alchemists, things could still go wrong.

“You never know when you’re going to need something. I have to admit that hoarding the stuff makes me feel better about teaching you. When we actually start having you transmute things, we’ll have plenty of stuff to work with.” Ed responded with a thoughtful frown, carrying the bag of fertilizer in question. “We’re still working on your dexterity and just drawing arrays.”

Bunny’s tail wagged momentarily, which seemed to be her form of laughter, now, “Well, I’m glad you’re teaching me other things, even if I never manage to draw a circle well enough to actually _work_. Plus, drawing has other uses, aside from alchemy. I’d like to be good at it again. At least my writing’s faster now.”

Alphonse had started giggling at the mention of drawing, “I’m never going to get that one doodle out of my head that you did. What was it? A…cactibou?”

Bunny nodded, looking completely serious, “Part cactus, part cat, part caribou. The legendary cactibou. A drawing of a chimera made by a chimera. Were my identity not a secret, museums would have paid a _fortune_ for it.” She declared, eliciting even more laughter from the younger brother. Although the fact that she had to pretend to be a normal dog in public was actually quite annoying, and even distressing, at times, Bunny would gladly make fun of it for hours, just to hear Al laugh. As a human, _before_, she had possessed a good amount of artistic talent, but her new body undid a lot of her skill, even if her creative process was fine. She was getting better, though, and sometimes she made little doodles without any serious concepts in mind.

Al kept talking about one such doodle where she had drawn essentially a spiny cat with antlers. It was identifiable as such, and had possessed an irritated scowl on its face—_“It looks like brother!”_—Alphonse had exclaimed, after examining it for a few moments. At that, Ed had grown annoyed and asked _what_, exactly, made the cat look like him. Bunny, who had by that time been living with the Elrics for two weeks, had given Ed a sweet, dog-like smile, and drawn a little antenna on the cat’s head, just like the one sticking up from his hairline. Edward had then proceeded to tear the drawing to pieces while his brother laughed hysterically in the background.

The cactibou incident had happened a week ago, so Bunny had been living with the brothers for a total of one month.

Edward shot them a belligerent look, “Will you two ever stop talking about that thing?” He snapped.

“But it suits you perfectly, brother.” Al responded, almost automatically.

“You’re never living it down.” Bunny added, at the same exact time.

Ed gave a frustrated growl, before huffing and staring past a low brick wall bordering the road, over the rolling green hills surrounding them. “I don’t get it, when did you two start teaming up on me, huh?”

The chimera began wagging her tail, “Your reactions are hilarious, is the problem, Ed. You make it too easy. If you’d just gone with it, then we wouldn’t keep bringing it up.” She took in his expression, before her mouth opened in a sharp grin, “Don’t worry, I’ll be getting Al next. He can’t have _all_ the fun.”

Edward’s mood seemed to improve, at this, even though there was no reaction from Alphonse suggesting that he was worried. Then again, his personality was harder to parody in a hilarious way using animals, and he was just overall more agreeable. He would probably laugh and move on, rather than grow irritated like his brother.

There was a pleasant lull in the conversation, then, until Bunny spoke up again, “So what exactly is saltpeter good for? You didn’t really give me a clear answer. What transmutation? What does it _make_?” She asked, pushing a little more. As casually as both brothers deflected things, Alphonse being the significantly better of the two, the chimera had noticed that they were surprisingly _evasive_ about what their ingredients were used to make. At first, they’d shown her little things that the stuff was used for. The sulfur they obtained could actually make a type of ink that glowed in the dark (Which they now kept a constant supply of, because Bunny _loved_ the stuff). The silica they had purchased could be mixed with other things to make manufactured stones of varying color.

Needless to say, these things appealed to Bunny’s artistic side, but the amount of ingredients required to make them were very low, and at some point, Edward and Alphonse both found themselves running out of explanations. The end conclusion was that they had way more than they really needed, unless there was some big project they were working on. Even if they attributed their massive stockpile to wanting to have plenty of materials for teaching Bunny alchemy, that was not the same as saying what the materials were actually _for._

Whatever it was, Bunny was by this point convinced Ed and Al were hiding something, and it bothered her. It was not simply that they were keeping a secret, by itself, but the sheer number of items they were gathering, and the way they were attempting to be discreet about it. It was one thing if something was a secret and they could say it; it was another that they seemed to want to prevent Bunny from knowing there was any secret, at all. It would have worked on the Rockbells, given that they did not live in the same household, but the same could not be said for the human chimera living under their roof. Bunny was constantly with the boys, except at night when everyone went to bed, so she was more likely to notice something amiss.

Her question about the purpose of saltpeter must have gone into territory that the brothers were not comfortable with, because Edward tensed, clenching his jaw, and Alphonse’s eyes went wide with something very much like guilt. Bunny calmly watched their reactions, waiting for a moment, before deciding to toss them a lifeline. She already had something of an answer, just by their reactions, “Does it do any cool artistic stuff?” She asked, pretending like she had not noticed them both slip just then. They would know they were caught, either way, even if they chose not to tell her the truth. It was manipulative, but Bunny was hoping that the children would reveal their secret to appease their conscience.

“It’s really useful for adding this cool protective coating to metal,” Alphonse answered her question, except his smile seemed forced, now. His voice had a faint tremor in it that suggested it was hurting him to say the answer, even if it was a true fact. “Even though it isn’t as good as other things, like what Winry and Granny might use for automail, it has this really pretty blue shine to it, and reflects like a rainbow.” As if that would give more legitimacy to the idea that the massive bag they were carrying would be used _entirely_ for that one, single purpose. Bunny was in no way fooled. She knew it, Al knew it, and so did Edward.

They were coming up on their house, now, a two-story building with a little attic room. It had gleaming white plastered walls, and the doors and window frames were painted a bright green, with red tile shingles on the roof. A whitewashed brick woodshed was tacked onto one side, and little flowerpots sat in stately window boxes on the first floor. A single brass lantern came from the wall above the front door. Aside from the house itself, a brown brick wall came from one side of the house and wrapped around the front, while the other half of the yard was bordered by a white fence. A massive oak tree grew to the left, and a rope swing hung down from one of the branches.

The house was a pretty thing, except there was something undeniably sad about it, knowing the brother’s situation. Their mother had passed away when Edward was five, Alphonse four, and there was no mention of their father. Bunny, deciding that was probably a very sensitive topic, had not asked about him. She told the boys that they did not have to tell her anything that they were not comfortable sharing. She would respect those boundaries if they respected hers.

After that particular discussion in their dining room, with the brothers sitting at the table and Bunny examining family photos on the fireplace mantle of Trisha and the boys, Edward had proceeded to ask her about her own story. She explained how she had been living in a home for youth—which was just a nicer way of saying orphanage—and had often gone to the library in her spare time to either read or have a quiet, well-lit environment to draw. Compared to a lot of children in the youth home, Bunny was a rather well-behaved girl, without many serious issues. Unfortunately, having been in her mid-teens, already, she was past the age that people would have wanted to adopt her. Older children were largely just at the facility until they reached eighteen, when they would be kicked out to fend for themselves.

The brothers had been silent, at that statement, spoken with a sort of distance, perhaps having heard the resigned tone in her voice. It was harsh, but that was how things worked, and Bunny had suffered through a lot of it, already. Little kids had more appeal to prospective parents than teenagers that were nearly grown, already. Bunny had chosen to do her best to set herself up for a good future, once she was old enough to be on her own, rather than merely hoping someone adopted her. Although having a parent who would invest in her future would have been best, she had not counted on that happening.

Of course all of that planning was irrelevant, now.

Alphonse unlocked the front door and opened it, letting Bunny go inside, where she went further down the hall to open the study door. She was getting extremely good at opening doors, including round knobs that were impossible for normal dogs. She was a bit slower than a human, but she was fast enough that she could do it as a trick to mess with strangers who considered her to simply be a large dog, and to get things for the boys when their arms were full. The only reason someone else had to get the front door was because actually _unlocking_ doors with a key was a great deal harder.

The study door used to be locked whenever it was closed before Bunny came to the household, but after one incident where they had, in a brief lapse of judgement, locked her out while they were researching, they no longer did it. Ed and Al had been so absorbed in reading their alchemy journals that they had failed to notice her trying to get their attention, until she began scratching the door, beginning to panic from the lack of response. The door now had deep claw marks all over it, which Pinako had advised fixing, because it looked like a bear had been trying to break it down. They had yet to actually replace the thing, though. Bunny kept telling the boys that if they knew an array to fix it, they should probably go ahead and use it, before they had a guest that got suspicious…except when did they ever get guests other than Pinako or Winry?

As they set the bag down in a growing pile at one corner of the study, near a suit of old antique armor, Bunny noticed some sort of round, metal trough, that had not been there before, “When did this thing get here?” She asked, tapping it with the claws of her right paw—what would have been her dominant hand. The thing was not too deep, but it was a wide diameter, and completely unfamiliar.

“We made it last night, you were asleep, but that’s really useful if we ever need to use something like water for a transmutation. It keeps everything in one place.” Edward explained, dusting off his hands on his trousers. He glanced at them, “Speaking of water, I’m going to go wash my hands just in case I got any saltpeter on them. I don’t want to get a rash from it.” He proceeded to walk out of the study towards the kitchen, Al attempting to follow, before Bunny called his name, stopping him.

“Al?” She asked.

“Yeah?” He turned to look back at her, as she examined the pile. She could feel something very tense on her face, and she was sure Al could see it, too.

“Why aren’t you telling me things?” She asked. She was going to let it go, but now the kids were sneaking around at night when she was asleep.

Alphonse did not respond, but stared silently with a kind of stricken look on his face.

Bunny lowered her ears, “You’re not doing anything dangerous, are you?” She asked, looking at him, head lowered.

This seemed to snap Al back out of whatever state he had been in, “No, nothing like that at all!” He waved his hands wildly with denial.

She looked away, “It…isn’t my place to tell you what to do, Al, not you or your brother…but…it bothers me. It really does.” She slowly padded around him and out of the study, “I’m going upstairs.”

She barely acknowledged Edward as she walked past. He stood there with an expression almost as stunned as his brother’s, having caught some part of the conversation, though she had no idea how much.

The two looked at each other as they heard footsteps ascend the stairs, and then silence.

…

“I don’t like it either, brother.” Alphonse’s voice sounded painful.

“It’s the only way we can do it, Al. Everyone will try to stop us if they know.”

“We’re still keeping it a secret, and she knows we’re hiding something, Ed.”

“It won’t be like this for much longer. We’ve got everything we need.”

Alphonse swallowed, “…Tonight?”

Edward tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out more like a grimace, “…Tonight, after she’s asleep.”

“Brother…are you really sure this is right?”

“What do you mean?”

“An alchemist transmuted Bunny into a chimera, but she was human, before that. She said that messing with animals or people was bad. What if we’re making a huge mistake? What if something bad happens?”

“We aren’t making a mistake, Al. We’ll prove it.”

Bunny woke up to the sound of a door being locked, and immediately rose onto her feet, taking a brief moment to glimpse out the window. At some point during the afternoon that day, clouds had begun to gather in the sky, and now it was pouring, hard, outside, in the middle of the night. The rain normally soothed her to sleep, especially without thunder, but Bunny had woken up for a reason. Something was wrong. She could feel it, and how she knew, she attributed it to instincts. She had no idea if it was the maternal sort that a mother felt, when her children were threatened, or if it was the dogs inside her, howling that the pack was in danger. Whatever it was, she knew, deep down, that something was horribly, horribly _wrong._

Her pulse racing, her legs carried her down the steps; there was only one room in this house that there was ever a debate about locks over. She sped down the hallway, and came upon the door to the study, _closed_. The yellow glow of candlelight was visible just through the gap at the bottom, and she could see shadows moving. She could smell them behind the door, with a mix of other things.

Bunny rose up on her hind paws, grabbing the knob and twisting it, only to find that it stopped after a tiny bit of movement.

Locked.

She could feel herself breathing hard, her throat going dry, “Ed! Al!” She yelled, “Why is the door locked!?” One of her paws braced against it, her claws scoring deep marks into the wood. There was no response, even though she could pick up their voices on the other side.

_“-Saltpeter, 100 grams, sulfur, 80 grams, fluorine, 7.5 grams-“_

That was Alphonse’s voice she could hear, listing weights for alchemical ingredients, slightly wavering. Some of them were only a small amount, but a few of them would easily be enough to use up entire amounts in the stockpile.

There was the ringing of water, filling the metal trough that she had seen earlier.

They were _ignoring_ her.

_“-That’s everything, the physical ingredients of human body. Now if we can just put together a soul, we should be able to call mom back from the other side.“ _Edward’s voice drifted, and Bunny’s blood ran cold.

No. No no _no._

She slammed her paws into the door, hard enough to rattle the frame, cutting off any speech from inside, “Edward, Alphonse! Open the door!” She screamed, her voice taking on a terrified edge. She had to stop them, she was no fool, human transmutation was more than just illegal, it was _fatal._ Alchemists were not the only people aware of it. Nobody who had ever attempted human transmutation had survived it. Every single case ended with a rebound that took their lives. It was illegal for a _reason._

And _her _boys were on the other side of that door, preparing to do it, to revive their mom. Bunny knew they had loved Trisha, but there was no way that their mother would have wanted her two sons following her into the grave like this. “Stop! Human transmutation is fatal! You’ll be killed!” She screamed, growing desperate. “Stop!” She slammed herself into the door again, this time on her side, hard enough to make it groan on its hinges, but it would not budge. She felt pain bloom along her flank, and knew she had been pierced by splinters from the claw marks, but she hardly cared, right now.

She slammed into the door again.

_“Ed, a-alchemy is e-equivalent exchange. The b-body contents seem simple enough, but what about the s-soul? What could we p-possibly offer?”_ Al’s voice filtered through the door, trembling. Bunny could almost hear him flinch when her body connected with the barrier keeping her out of the study. _“What if we c-can’t match it?”_

“There is no equal for human life!” Bunny screamed, “Stop! _Please stop!”_ She bashed her side into the door again, her claws scoring more deep marks when she pushed herself away to do it again. She could not get the thing to budge. It was heavy and solid; very thick. She was doing damage, but mostly cosmetic. She was not any closer to getting it open compared to before. She could feel a curl of dread forming in her stomach, the more times she was met with failure.

_“Don’t chicken out on me, we have to keep going. Hold out your finger-“ _Soon after Ed’s words, the scent of _blood_ reached her nose, at which point her attacks on the door, if that was even possible, grew more rapid. She started _screaming_, then. A completely wordless, animal sound that was filled with terror, and so raw and frightened that living creatures of any species would feel alarm at hearing it. _“W-when you t-take out the myth, it’s j-just a s-spark that starts life.”_ Ed’s voice trembled, that time. He was bothered by it, both brothers were, but they were not willing to _stop._

_“I hate this, brother,”_ Alphonse sounded like he was on the verge of tears, but Bunny just kept screaming. _Anything _that made them stop, and realize how dangerous this was and how _scared_ she was.

_“I do, too, Al, but you know why we locked the door.”_ Ed responded, audibly trying to steel himself, in spite of the fact that a chimera was probably injuring herself on the other side, trying to get to him and his sibling. _“There was no other way. Our blood can act as soul material. Our blood from hers, from both of us, that’s a fair trade.”_

No. It was not. It would never be enough.

Bunny then felt a splinter dig into a sensitive spot on her ribs, and let out a high-pitched yelp of pain, before growling, and slamming into the door once more, “Stop! _Stop!_ You’re going to get yourselves killed!” She felt her throat choking off, “Don’t do this!” She gasped, trying not to start crying. Her claws slid down the door again, the marks she left shallow, this time, “Don’t do this, _please_ don’t do this!” She begged.

She wished she could say they listened. No matter how much it hurt them to listen to her, they would not just stop and let her in. They were going to do it, in spite of the law, in spite all of the evidence that should have told them that they were making a mistake.

Bunny was not an alchemist, not truly. She could not even draw a simple circle correctly. But if the law of equivalent exchange was true, then where was the equivalence in her life? What was she gaining in return, for all of the things she had suffered? She had an inhuman body she never asked to receive, but the strength in it surely was nowhere near worth the price she had paid. She had lost her parents, both of them, suddenly in an automobile accident. Now she was going to lose Edward and Alphonse, too. Winry and Pinako would never forgive her, and she would be alone, again.

She was _right here_, and would stop it in a heartbeat, but she could not, and it was all because of a single, locked door.

She slammed her paw into the door again, leaning against it, a sort of numbness cooling over her emotions, even though her breath choked off in her throat and she felt so, incredibly _bitter_, then. Her entire right side was stinging and the door was covered in blood, but she could not bring herself to care. She could hear lightning, and the glow from under the door was turning blue, then gold, with the start of that dreaded transmutation. She felt coiling in her gut, like a premonition. She was unable to stop them. She gritted her teeth, and slid back down onto four legs, ignoring when a sharp splinter of wood stabbed into her left paw. Some part of Bunny _welcomed_ that pain.

Then she _felt_ it go wrong. She was not even an alchemist participating, but she knew, the very moment the transmutation began rebounding. She heard shattering glass, and could feel disturbances in the air. Something deep-rooted and primal, then, began screaming in the back of her mind to _get away. _The light from under the door shifted to a deep purple, and something dark and misty began oozing out from under it. Bunny did not _want_ to back away, because that would take her further from the boys. But she did. Something _dangerous_ was there, and all she could do now was sit there and hope that they would somehow make it out of this alive, and then try to fix whatever remained. She felt a bit like her heart had been scraped from her chest, raw and bleeding. They might not survive this.

_“Brother, something’s going wrong here.”_

_“It can’t be…a rebound?”_

Bunny knew it even before the boys did. The worst part, though, was when the screaming began.

Alphonse started screaming first, begging for his brother to help him, and then Edward began crying out, too. She dug her claws into the floor, not caring if she destroyed it, or for the sharp bit of wood embedded in her left palm. Bunny would not run away, but she could not go near whatever it was that they had just brought here or woken up; her instinctive response was rooting her in place. She gritted her teeth, and began to sob uncontrollably, then. Her chimera body prevented her from shedding tears, but she cried, regardless.

Edward and Alphonse were suffering, in pain and scared, and there was absolutely _nothing_ she could do. As she listened, it only got worse, from the boys calling each other’s names, to Ed begging for someone, _anyone_ to help, until suddenly, the transmutation faded, and whatever it was that she sensed vanished. He pleaded for his mom, before screaming that this was not what they wanted, and then started crying for Al, using his full name.

What happened to Alphonse? She couldn’t hear him. Bunny growled deep in her throat, and slammed into the door again, her fight coming back, suddenly. She did it repeatedly, over and over, uncaring for the fact that she was bleeding. She ran to the end of the hallway and slammed into it after getting a running start.

She could smell blood, a lot of it. So much of it. If they were hurt, she had to hurry, before it was too late.

_“Take my arm, take my leg, take my heart, take anything, you can have it! Just give him back! He’s my little brother, he’s all I have left!”_

There was the sound of a clap, and she felt_ something_ pass again. A growl caught in her throat, but this time, that something was distinctly _different_, because it faded almost immediately.

“Edward! Alphonse!” She began screaming their names.

Suddenly, the door was no longer able to handle the abuse—if only it had fallen _sooner_. The hinges rattled, ripped from their frame, and the door fell, Bunny charging over it into the study, and almost _gagging_ at the smells inside. It was not the stench of rot, but the smell of organs, and the reek of blood. She scanned the room, and her breath caught. She forced herself to look away from the center of the transmutation array, feeling bile in her throat from just a brief glimpse of the incomplete thing that had formed. She at least knew why Edward had been screaming in horror, now.

She had no time to be terrified, though, when her eyes caught sight of a head of golden hair. The elder brother sat there, bleeding. She almost choked at the sight, a sort of despairing whine escaping her, when she realized _why_. His left arm was gripping his right shoulder in an impossible place, where there was _nothing_. The sleeve was empty, but drenched with blood. From the thigh down, there was nothing left of his left leg. He was bleeding profusely because _his limbs were gone_ and there was _so much red_. “Edward…” Her voice trembled.

She had to get him to a doctor. He would bleed to death here, if she didn’t, but where was Alphonse?

She heard a moan, and the creaking of metal, as all of a sudden, a suit of armor near Ed sat up of its own accord from where it had been lying on the floor, examining its hands, “What is this?” it asked. There was a sort of reddish glow in its eyes. She would have barked at it, or snarled, except it spoke in the younger brother’s voice. Bunny felt like she might be sick. There was no way a child Al’s size could control a suit of armor that big so perfectly. She also could not hear the noises of a human body inside. The armor was _hollow_, but she knew it was Al. She saw his clothes, sitting in a pile on the floor, empty, his body absent. She had no idea how.

She turned her gaze back to Edward, limping over, and growling, before tearing the splinter out of her left paw with her teeth, wincing as she did so. It hurt, but it was easier to walk with an open wound than a lodged object digging into her. “Edward, you’re bleeding, we need to stop it.” No time for her to panic now, she had more pressing concerns than her own emotional turmoil. As much as she wanted to lament this whole mess, and grieve over what had just happened, it would be dangerous to give in now.

“Brother!” The armor stood up and ran over, gently lifting Edward with ease and cradling him in its—_his_—arms. “What happened to you?...What happened to me?” he asked, while Bunny walked over to the pile of clothes he had left behind, and, using her claws, tore it to ribbons, pulling out the longest strip she could make from the garments.

Edward was still conscious, somehow, because he responded, “…There wasn’t much time…” She could hear him struggling to get the words out, “…I used my right arm as material for a transmutation…to attach your soul to the armor in the corner…”

Alphonse’s response was a trembling voice, “But…mom…”

“-Do not look at the center of that array.” Bunny warned around the cloth in her mouth, walking back over to the two. Alphonse, of course, immediately did that, in spite of the fact that she had said something, or even the fact that his brother had seemingly been preparing to warn him the same way the chimera had.

Al no longer had lungs, but she heard the horrified gasp, regardless, “I don’t understand, the formulas, the equations…”

“Enough!” Bunny barked, then, dropping the cloth at Alphonse’s feet, and cutting off whatever spiral they were going down. “You can discuss what happened later, now isn’t the time! Alphonse, I need your hands. Take this cloth and wrap it around your brother’s leg as tightly as you can. Cut off the circulation. We can’t afford to worry if it hurts. We need to compress the artery.”

“…Bunny?” Ed’s voice was so, so weak.

“Stay with us, Ed.” She told him, as Alphonse grabbed the makeshift bandage and, with trembling hands that made the metal armor rattle, began wrapping it around the stump of his left leg. “You survived that transmutation, but that won’t be the case if you keep bleeding. Hold your right side above your heart if you can. It’s gone at the shoulder. I don’t know how to bandage that, but we can hopefully slow it down long enough to get you help.”

Bunny forced her emotions of horror, grief, and guilt to shut down. They would stop her from thinking rationally, if she let them take control. She knew that this whole experience was traumatizing them, there was no way that she could avoid it. Al was having to bandage up his own older brother’s leg to stop him from bleeding out. It nearly broke her again, though, when she heard Edward start _crying._

“I’m sorry…” He sobbed, “I’m so sorry…”

“Shhh,” She hushed him, “Focus on breathing for me, okay? Try to stay awake. Try to slow your heart rate down if you can.” Her voice wavered, betraying that she was just as scared as they were, but she would force herself to keep thinking, _find a way_.

At that moment, Alphonse had finished tying off the limb, so she turned to him, “Al, pick him up, you’re big enough to do it. We’re taking him to the Rockbells. That’s the only way we’re going to get help fast enough. Ed, keep your right side covered, it’s raining and water will prevent clotting and make it worse.” She was not a doctor, by any stretch, but she knew how blood and water worked.

“I feel dizzy…” His voice was faint.

“You’re going to pass out. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” She said, her voice clear even as it trembled, as Alphonse lifted him. “I’m running ahead to warn them. Don’t stop for anything, Al.” She decided, before turning, and, ignoring all the pain she felt right now, and the desire to stay _with_ them, charging out of the study. She turned the front doorknob and flung it open, hearing it rattle as she bolted into the rain down the road, charging towards the silhouette of the Rockbell family home in the night. The lights were still on inside, for some reason. Perhaps another late night of automail work. She could not have been more grateful, then, for the fact that the two people living there forced themselves to excel at the cost of sleep.

She darted up the porch, and Den began barking, right before she slammed both paws into their front door with sufficient force that the crash would immediately be heard by anyone in the household. _“Pinako!”_ She screamed.

The old woman opened the door so quickly it was as if she had already been standing there, hearing the note of urgency in her voice.

“Bunny, what’s going on? You’re bleeding!” She asked, concerned.

“Edward and Alphonse attempted human transmutation,” She gasped, her legs burning from the exertion of running to the house. “Al’s bringing Edward, but he’s lost an arm and a leg and he’s bleeding really bad.”

_“What?”_ Winry was in the dining room beyond, but the horror was audible even from here.

Behind her, Bunny could hear the metallic sounds of the armor approaching. Her canine hearing picked up Alphonse begging his brother to stay with him.

“We tried to get something like a tourniquet on his left leg, but that’s all we could do. _Please_, if you can, save him!” She begged.

She then hurriedly stepped aside, and Pinako backed away into the kitchen as Alphonse ran up, towering and strange in his new form. Edward was unconscious at this point, having lost too much blood to stay awake. He must have still been alive, though, but barely; his features were tense and contorted with pain, rather than peaceful. He still had enough energy left to make that face.

“Winry, prep the operating room!” Pinako called, taking a single glance at the pale form in Alphonse’s arms. “Come with me.” She ordered the younger brother, and he followed her inside, red mixing with the rain and diluting out on the porch, and trailing down the hall as they made their way over to where they would have to do an emergency procedure.

Bunny stared at it, before choking on a sob again, and stood there in the rain for a while, before padding inside, kicking the door closed behind her with her hind leg.

Bunny sat back on her haunches, waiting just outside the door of the operating room. Alphonse was sitting on a sofa nearby, gazing into his lap. Both of them were perhaps off in their own little worlds, trying to process what had just happened.

As soon as Alphonse had set Edward down onto a gurney, Winry and Pinako had kicked them both out of the operating room, with orders to not interrupt. Neither of them dared. Ed was fighting for his life, and it was a blessing, that the close family friends that had been looking after the Elrics happened to be automail mechanics with all the necessary equipment for surgery on-site. Had it been any other situation, from someone without medical training being their neighbor, to Alphonse still being too small to properly run with his brother in his arms, and Edward would not have stood any chance at all. He had been at death’s door, already, by the time the operation began. His survival was still uncertain, but any chance was better than none. Bunny would take it.

Alphonse, meanwhile, was probably doing far worse, in a psychological or emotional sense. He had no physical body, now; he was a soul bound to a suit of armor. He had been robbed of his humanity, in a way, though it was something that had saved his life. Bunny understood that feeling, all too well. What he was experiencing was probably not much different from how the chimera had felt, waking up within a cage, and realizing her hands had been replaced with paws. He might be processing that, even as his brother’s survival was uncertain, and remained their primary concern. It was out of their hands, now. They could only hope Winry and Pinako’s efforts were enough.

“…Bunny?”

She turned to look at Alphonse, and could hear a sound very much like sobbing coming from the armor. “Is brother going to be okay?” He asked.

She was silent, for a long moment, before answering, “I don’t know, Al.” Was all she could say. There was no point in lying and giving false reassurances. People did not survive human transmutation, and if Edward did, it would be a first, and a complete miracle. That the question of him being okay was even possible was a miracle in itself. This did not feel like a miracle, though. It felt like a tragedy.

There was a long period of silence, almost enough for Bunny to think that the brief exchange would be the end of it, when suddenly Al spoke again, “I’m sorry…” He said.

Bunny’s ears lowered. She did not want to dwell on it. She had no idea what to say to that. The boys had both known she would try to stop them if she found out what they were doing. They had locked her out of the study, and gone through with attempting to bring back their mother, even as they heard her screaming and begging for them to stop. Bunny did not know what was worse, beyond the fact that the brothers had both been grievously hurt; the fact that she had been unable to stop it, or that they had locked her out in the first place.

She chose not to respond, until Al said more, “Are you angry?” He asked. Almost like an echo, of when she had asked the very same question, after revealing that she was a chimera, rather than a normal dog, three weeks ago.

She did have an answer for that one. “…No…” Her voice trembled, and she lowered her head in a defeated expression. “I’m _scared_ for you.” She felt herself start shivering, even though it was not cold. The fur on her right side was tinged brown from dried blood, and her shoulder throbbed. She had done damage to herself, trying to get into that study, not just from wooden splinters, but bruising, from the force of the blows she had directed at the door. She was mostly concerned about her left paw, but any worries about infection from having run through mud with it paled compared to her fear that Edward would not make it out of this alive.

“…I never wanted you to see the things I saw, or feel what I felt. No matter what happens, Al…you’re going to deal with this for the rest of your life. Ed, too…” She spoke her thoughts aloud, her voice filled with grief.

Alphonse was silent for a long pause, before he spoke yet again, “Bunny?”

“…Yeah?”

“…was being turned into a chimera painful?”

She took a shuddering breath, and forced a smile that hurt. She did it to keep herself from falling apart. “Like every part of me was being ripped apart, only it wasn’t just me. It was all of the animals, screaming in terror. That somehow made it worse, knowing that it was more than just me, but _us._” She choked on a sob, having trouble this entire time stopping herself. She no longer had tears she could run out of, “Animals, you know…they don’t understand what’s happening…but _humans_…”

She lowered herself completely to the ground, resting her head against the floor, almost like she was prostrating herself in prayer, or the dog equivalent. “I care about you and your brother so, so much, Al…”

Alphonse seemed at a loss for words, and they fell back into silence, again, until the door to the operating area rattled, and Pinako emerged, Winry trailing behind.

Bunny shot to her feet, Al doing the same exact thing, “Is he-?”

“He’s stable. He’s not getting worse, but he’s not getting better, either. We’ve given him a transfusion to make up for the blood loss, and the bleeding’s stopped, but he could still get an infection or suffer complications.” Pinako responded, her face grim. “Bunny, what exactly happened?”

Her ears were already as low as they could be on her skull, “I’m not sure…I couldn’t break down the door until after it happened. All I know is Al’s body is missing and Ed lost two limbs. He said he sacrificed his arm to bind Al to the armor…so the transmutation itself must have taken his leg.”

Alphonse, silent, looked down at the metal feet that formed his artificial body.

Pinako hummed thoughtfully, while Winry stood behind her, seeming unsure as she looked behind her at the child, unconscious on the gurney, and hooked up to IV’s.

“So those injuries of yours are from breaking down the door?”

“Huh?”

“You did what you could. You had quick thinking with that tourniquet, even if it was not quite the proper method, and the two of you might have very well saved his life, doing that.”

Bunny huffed a bitter laugh, at that.

“Sit down, we need to treat your own injuries, now. Anything that’s particularly concerning?” Pinako asked, as Bunny lay down in front of her, as ordered.

Silently, she held out her left paw, twisting it so the pad faced up.

Winry drew a sharp intake of breath, at the sight of it, though after seeing someone missing limbs, it surprised Bunny, slightly. Winry was doing an amazing job, holding it together, like she had. She would be an amazing automail mechanic, someday, that she could function under this kind of pressure.

“Let’s get that cleaned out and treated. Edward probably won’t wake up for several more hours, maybe not even until the next day. I don’t think any of us are going to sleep, tonight.”

Bunny swallowed as Winry knelt down and took her paw in her hands, “No…” She said, in quiet agreement.

Who could sleep, after the things they had seen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I present to you something a little more cheerful)
> 
> Meanwhile, during the entire mess of this chapter...
> 
> Lt. Colonel Mustang: Where exactly do these alchemists live?
> 
> Shop Owner: Eh, over the hill in that direction? You better not be planning anything. I don't like that you military folks are looking for 'em. 
> 
> Mustang: Well, we'll be on our way, then.
> 
> Shop Owner: Oh! I almost forgot. They got a dog about a month ago. Huge one. She's a real sweetheart, but looks like she's got some wolfhound in her. If you cause trouble, she'll eat you up.
> 
> Mustang: I think we can handle that.
> 
> Random Child 1: She can recognize guns and smell your intentions.
> 
> Shop Owner: See? The kid gets it.
> 
> Mustang, now disturbed: I see...well, we're off.
> 
> (Mustang then proceeds to drag Hawkeye out of the store because that was downright creepy.)
> 
> Random Child 1: He's gonna die. Maybe not the lady, but the black-haired man? Definitely.
> 
> Shop Owner: Yup.


	4. Eyes Reflecting The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two military officials visit Resembool in search of prospective State Alchemists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is half from Roy Mustang's POV, and the rest is Bunny. I initially tried writing it from Ed's, and then Bunny, at the start, but this thing fought me, because I don't think Bunny is such an amazing motivational speaker that she could talk Ed out of his depressive state. Some lines, as in the previous chapter, are copied from the anime and manga, with differences due to Bunny's presence.
> 
> Hopefully, Mustang isn't too out of character with his perspective, and I am aware that Hawkeye had very few lines spoken in this chapter. Canonically, Hawkeye spoke with Winry while the brothers and Pinako had a discussion with Mustang. Please take for granted that this conversation did happen between the two female characters. Hawkeye did not sit there silently, and her initial meeting with Winry did heavily influence her development, I believe. Bunny, in the future, is going to have a very strange and complex relationship with Mustang, because Mustang will partly want to figure out who she was, as a human, and he is both helping the Elrics, but putting them in a bizarre and potentially dangerous situation. Other characters will want to find out Bunny's origins, too, and Bunny will both love these people and hate the fact that they're prying. Some of them do it because they just want to know more, and others do it out of a desire to help her. Bunny's backstory is actually very complex, so it will slowly get revealed, over time. Some of her own free will, others because people dig it up.
> 
> Also, several plot deviations occur here. Some are minor, and others are major and you will know immediately what they entail (some happy news, actually). I hope you like it!

Trying to search for prospective alchemists during a heavy rainstorm had done little to improve Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang’s mood. The locals in Resembool were incredibly evasive, whenever he tried to ask about the whereabouts of the Elric brothers. Rumors of the duo had made it all the way to Maes’ office, and if this pair of siblings were as skilled as people were claiming, they could easily become State Alchemists. Mustang wanted to get to the Elrics, first, before someone else came and recruited them. He needed as many supporters on his side as he could find.

The main problem was simply locating Alphonse and Edward Elric. Although Resembool was a small town, it was small only because of its tiny population. The actual area the town took up was large and sprawling, filled with sheep pastures and farmland. The number of residents meant everybody knew everyone else, but it also meant there were fewer people he could ask. Most people froze up and became suspicious, seeing Mustang and Second Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye wandering around in their military uniforms. He was beginning to think they should have come wearing plainclothes, although that would make convincing the brothers, themselves, much harder.

At some point late in the day the rain had stopped, and though everything remained damp, it was much easier to drive over dirt roads and walk around without getting drenched at every turn. Resembool was a pretty town, but it was absolutely miserable during bad weather. Unlike the city, the landscape here was wide and open, and there was no convenient storefront awning to duck under. The market, as everyone called it, was more like a series of small stores spread far apart around a massive cobblestone square. The stores reflected more rural careers, with a butcher (primarily selling mutton or lamb), a hardware store (Large amounts of gear needed for fencing pastures or raising livestock), a crafting store (selling mostly wool fabrics), and a grocer.

The butcher and the grocer had refused to speak to Mustang at all, and the crafting store owner had been friendly, right up until the Elric brothers were mentioned. The moment a word was spoken about the two alchemists, she had gone silent, and glared at him, hard. She had promptly ordered him to get out of her store, and no amount of charm had seemed to work on the woman. For someone as good with words as Mustang, that had stung, a little. He usually prided himself on his ability to sweet-talk a lady.

His last resort, then, was the hardware store, and when Mustang and Hawkeye came through the entrance, an older, balding man with a curly blonde mustache fixed them with a hard look, from where he stood behind the counter. “Military?” He mused, blue eyes narrowing behind round spectacles, “I doubt you folks are visiting family around here. What can I do for you officers?” he asked. Not quite the warm welcome a random traveler would receive, Mustang imagined, but better than the other responses he had gotten.

The Lt. Colonel decided this person would probably want him to state his goal outright, “We came here when we heard rumors about a couple of talented alchemists, the Elric brothers.” Mustang began, dark eyes narrowing slightly. He straightened his back, trying to maintain some impression of authority that the town residents…did not seem to really respect. “We’ve been trying to locate Alphonse and Edward Elric, but the neighboring store owners have refused to give us any information. We aren’t here with any intentions beyond speaking with the Elrics. I get the impression they’re well known around here.”

The owner hummed thoughtfully, “So just a social call?” He mused, “Alphonse and Edward visit my shop rather often. They come here and buy random things for their alchemy. I’ve sold bits of chain, packs of nails…bags of saltpeter, bone meal…I have no idea what they use all of those things for. They got a dog about a month ago, and it follows them everywhere.”

“Do you know where they live?” Mustang asked, pressing for more information. This man was the first shop owner who would speak to them, and he was claiming to have regular contact with the brothers. Although it was too soon to presume he would learn anything, Mustang could not help but be hopeful this would be their lead to figuring out where the surprisingly elusive siblings lived.

“North road out of the square, a white house near Rockbell Automail with a tree growing next to it. Look to your right and you should find it.”

“Thank you for your time, sir,” Mustang responded, nodding to Hawkeye and exiting the store. The two strode back to their vehicle parked at the corner of the town square, got in, and drove away, heading up the road that the shop owner had indicated.

The man behind the counter frowned as he watched them go, “Why on earth are military officials looking for a couple of kids?”

“The door is open,” Mustang frowned, thinking that something was wrong with that one, simple fact. The Elric household was as stately as he’d pictured, and the shop owner had given a perfect description of it. The problem, though, was that everything was still damp from earlier rains, and people generally did not open their front doors and leave them that way. The few times Mustang had seen something like this, it was either because someone had broken into the house, or it had been vacated in a hurry. This was the countryside, so perhaps people were more relaxed, not expecting someone to simply waltz into their house; but that seemed unlikely.

Mustang and Hawkeye got out of the car and slowly approached the house. For the sake of politeness, Mustang gently knocked the back of his hand against the open door. “Hello? Anyone home?” he called.

There was a shifting sound within, and the clicking of nails on a wooden floor, as the largest dog Roy Mustang had ever seen emerged from a hallway, fixing both officers with an assessing look.

He took a step back, realizing this must be the Elric family pet. The dog was here, but where were its owners? He glanced down and spotted a sock over one leg, and noted that the canine seemed to be favoring its other side. The sock was slightly damp on the bottom, and the fur of the dog’s right paw appeared to be soaked with water. The canine had rather long claws, too, if Mustang were any judge of such things.

“Hey girl, where’s your owner?” Hawkeye stepped past Mustang and offered the dog a hand to inspect.

She eyed the Second Lieutenant’s hand for a moment, almost as if expecting it to be dangerous, before sniffing it, and, after a moment of cautious contemplation, giving it a tiny lick. Hawkeye responded by scratching the dog behind her ears, and was met with a single tail wag.

The dog looked…skittish, like something was upsetting it.

“The Elrics don’t seem to be home, but their dog is here.” Mustang inspected its collar, “Bunny? What an…interesting name.” It was highly misleading, given this dog was extremely big. Her head was the same height as his collarbone. Had anyone else come into this house, they would have panicked when she approached.

The dog, Bunny, turned to look at him, tilting her head. There was something intelligent about the canine’s eyes that Mustang could not quite place. “Where’s your owner?” He asked.

The dog’s ears lowered, and Bunny gave a tiny whine, before trying to move forward and brush past the two officers. She walked out of the house and turned to look at them. She glanced somewhere over the horizon, and then back at them again, before giving another whine.

“The Elrics aren’t in the house?” Mustang and Hawkeye followed the dog out.

Bunny immediately turned again once they were out of the building, going back to the front of the house. She rose onto her hind legs, much to the two human’s surprise, and grabbed the doorknob with both paws, wincing from her bandaged injury. She walked backwards, pulling it with her, and the door to the Elric’s home clicked shut. Bunny then dropped back onto four legs and looked at them, tilting her head, before turning and beginning to walk off somewhere, over the hill.

“Lieutenant Colonel, I believe that I saw Rockbell Automail in that direction. It’s possible that Edward and Alphonse are there.”

Bunny barked at them, more like a high-pitched yip, almost like an affirmation.

“I admit that the dog being able to open and close doors is impressive, but why is she here if her owners are over there?” Mustang mused.

The dog whined at him, at that, before making a series of howling noises that sounded an awful lot like complaining. Mustang had thought dogs did not complain, but it seemed he was wrong. Bunny seemed offended, almost, that he was questioning the canine’s logic, why she would be in a location separate from her owners. He had a strong impression that this dog was one that was willing to argue her point for hours if she could speak words.

“Alright, alright, fine, lead the way.” Mustang felt a vague sense of irritation that he did not bother trying to hide for Bunny like he would for a human, but the dog seemed satisfied with his answer. She turned and began trotting towards the neighboring business. When the dog stopped and looked back to confirm that Mustang and Hawkeye were actually following her, her ears rose and fell in some expression, before she turned and ran the rest of the way.

The dog was ridiculously fast, and ascended the steps of Rockbell Automail before slamming her good paw against the door and barking until someone answered. Bunny went inside and the door closed behind her, the two officers too far away for the person answering the door to acknowledge their presence or even see them.

As they ascended the steps, Mustang heard an outraged shriek from inside.

_“What!? The military!? Here!?”_ a girl’s voice, young, dangerously close to shattering glass with the volume of her yelling.

So they spotted them through the window, then. A different dog started barking, then.

Mustang approached the door, but before he could knock, an older woman, incredibly short, answered it, “So I’ve got officers at my door.” She answered. This must be Mrs. Rockbell. She gave off that aura of authority that older women sometimes had, when they were part of the working world, and had experience dealing with people.

“Good afternoon,” Mustang schooled his features into an expressionless mask, “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang, and this is Second Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. We came to Resembool after receiving word about a couple of talented alchemists, the Elric brothers. We went to check their house but it seems nobody was home. Their dog led us here. Are they visiting?”

The old woman frowned, and stepped aside, “I don’t know what you want with a pair of children, but you might as well see why they’re visiting us. They got into a bad accident and they’re over here to recover. Poor Bunny stepped on something trying to rescue them and stabbed her paw.”

“Children?” Mustang was not quite sure what she meant by that, until his eyes fell on the young boy sitting in a wheelchair a distance away, staring listlessly off into space. His right side and left leg were heavily bandaged, and the Lt. Colonel’s mind connected the dots. The kid was missing his arm and leg, and clearly traumatized. “What happened?” he asked.

“Edward hasn’t spoken a word since waking up, but an accident involving alchemy. I should have kept a better eye on them.” Mrs. Rockbell responded.

An accident involving alchemy that took a kid’s arm and leg? There was a very bad implication, there, but given that Mustang and Hawkeye had followed the dog, rather than investigate the Elric’s house, he had no idea if his suspicions were correct or not. Had the dog…deliberately distracted them? The notion seemed silly; dogs were not good at lying to people.

The canine in question walked over to sit next to the boy in the wheelchair, Edward Elric. Mustang had heard the rumors, but he had not realized that Edward, and most likely his brother, too, were just children. The kid barely moved to acknowledge the dog’s approach, but she whined and nudged her snout under his hand, wagging her tail slightly. Bunny was clearly worried about him, but if Edward had lost two limbs, where was his brother?

There was a metallic clink, before Mustang saw a person wearing metal armor emerge from behind the wheelchair. How had he not noticed that, before? It was unusual, to say the least. “Brother won’t talk.” A child’s voice came from it. “I’m…Alphonse.”

“What did you do?” Mustang asked, latching onto the guilt in Alphonse’s voice. What _had_ these kids done, to cause injuries like that?

The armor began rattling, then, as if the person inside were trembling. “We’re sorry…we’re sorry…” The voice sounded as though he were on the verge of tears. Mustang, at this point, took the child’s guilt as confirmation. There were very few transmutations that would mutilate someone in a rebound as badly as Edward, and Alphonse was having a meltdown at the slightest amount of questioning.

“What did you do?!” His tone took on a harsher edge, and he strode forward.

His impromptu interrogation was cut off by a harsh, nearly feral snarl, as Bunny moved to stand between Mustang and Alphonse, blocking him from getting any closer. The dog glared at him, but there was no show of teeth, or raised hackles. This was clearly a protective act, rather than aggression. The dog would not attack Mustang or Hawkeye, outright, but if she thought her family was in danger, she probably would. He supposed raising his voice at the children might have been a bad idea.

“Bunny, stand down!” Mrs. Rockbell ordered.

The dog cast her a look and whined, at that, before looking back at Mustang, warily. He could _see_ the creature debating. She refused to budge, though. Mustang was unfamiliar, and he had probably looked threatening, trying to find answers.

“Bunny,” Mrs. Rockbell’s tone was different, this time, almost resigned, “They’re going to find out. You tried, and that counts for a lot, but there’s nothing we can do.”

What was this woman talking about? She was talking like the dog was _hiding_ something, but that would be silly, dogs did not-

Bunny spoke.

“Fine,” She responded, in an inhumanly deep, rumbling female voice. Her snout wrinkled, “-But if they _hurt_ them, I’m done negotiating.” Slowly, reluctantly, the canine moved aside, allowing Mustang to reach the two boys she had been protecting. The Lt. Colonel, though, could only stare at the dog.

“You’re a _talking _chimera…” Mustang breathed, amazed. There was only one other recorded case of a chimera ever having the ability to understand human speech.

Bunny’s lip curled, “A _human_ chimera.” She corrected him. She kept watching, even as Mustang found himself unable to prevent an expression of horror from crossing his face. Hawkeye, as stoic as she usually was, tightened her fists by her side. Human chimera…Bunny had been created using a human? Both of them had seen pretty horrific things, but this was definitely an atrocity, and one they had not yet had the misfortune to witness. “I’d rather not go into detail about it, please understand.” Bunny added.

“Bunny…” Alphonse’s voice from within the armor trembled. Revealing what she was would be dangerous, and Mustang fully understood that. They could easily decide to treat Bunny as property and take her away, and she was leaving herself open to that, speaking in front of two military officials. Even Edward, as unresponsive as he had been, still looked up with something like worry passing over his features

“What happened is already as illegal as it gets, and I’m not on your list of crimes. You didn’t do this to me.” Bunny looked at Alphonse, and her eyes drifted to Edward, “You two were just kind enough to give me a home. My conscience won’t allow me to let you face these people while I keep pretending to be a normal dog.”

“What happened?” Mustang cut off the discussion, getting back the attention of the two boys and the chimera. “What’s illegal?...apart from what’s obvious.” He eyed the chimera.

Mrs. Rockbell sighed, “Why don’t we move this into the dining room? I have a feeling this will be a long conversation.”

Bunny sighed, and exchanged glances with Alphonse, before going over to another room in the house, the boy in the suit of armor pushing Edward’s wheelchair.

“Hawkeye, you wait out here.” Mustang ordered, as he followed the children and the chimera.

“…I never thought that the Elrics would be children, much less skilled enough to attempt human transmutation, or bind a soul to armor.” Mustang’s hands folded in front of him thoughtfully. Mrs. Rockbell, or Pinako, sat across from him at the dining room table. The chimera was sitting next to her on the floor, her head tall enough to be visible as if she were a person in a chair. Edward was sitting in his wheelchair, pulled up to another part of the table, Alphonse gripping the handles of it behind him. Mustang shifted his gaze to look at Bunny, “I didn’t expect to find a chimera made using a human, either.”

Bunny growled in the back of her throat—she had been doing it a lot while Pinako gave Mustang a summary of what had happened. She did not seem to like the Lt. Colonel very much, although it could easily be because she wanted to protect the brothers, rather than any personal grudge. Considering her earlier statements, that she revealed herself due to a conscience, it seemed more likely that she wanted to be able to speak on their behalf, if needed. Bunny had actually been present, when the boys had attempted the transmutation, and Pinako had claimed that putting a tourniquet on Edward’s leg had been the chimera’s idea. Out of the three members of the Elric household, Bunny was the only one who was not visibly falling apart in some way.

“While you claim Bunny was not created by the Elrics, the skill they have displayed could easily be State Alchemist level.” Mustang would give this a chance. He needed supporters, and there was something these children would want enough to join the military. In exchange, Mustang could keep the human transmutation a secret, and the chimera, too. His own conscience would not allow him to reduce Bunny to the same status as an animal, when she had formerly been human. She looked like a dog, but she had the same intelligence as a human, that much was clear.

“After Edward came in all bloody, I went to their house to see what happened.” Pinako began, her eyes glinting, “That thing…that I buried behind the house….it wasn’t human!” She gritted her teeth, “You! You want to toss them into it again? Alchemy nearly took their lives! It turned Bunny into a chimera when she was human!”

Bunny responded with a rumbling growl of her own, before her eyes drifted to Edward, and her head tilted, almost imperceptibly. She seemed to be…withholding judgment. She was looking to the elder brother, perhaps as a reference. He was completely silent, although he was listening to the discussion.

“If they join the State Alchemist program, it will give them funding and access to resources that are restricted from the public. Given time, they might even find a way to restore their bodies back to normal.” Mustang looked meaningfully at Edward, and saw something glinting in his eyes. “In exchange, you’ll have to follow the military’s orders.” Mustang’s eyes narrowed, “Whether you sit here and mope all day, with your brother stuck as a hunk of armor, that’s up to you. I’m not forcing you. It’ll be your choice.”

Edward’s left hand curled into a fist. He would eventually show up. There was no mistaking the expression he had.

“That’ll be all,” Mustang rose up from his chair, and reached into the pocket of his coat, withdrawing a letter and a card with contact information, and extending it out to Alphonse, “If you decide to come, visit the headquarters in East City. This should be useful.”

Hesitantly, the younger brother extended out his hand and took the letter.

Mustang fixed Bunny with an assessing gaze, “I don’t have any intentions of telling anyone about your existence, but I do want to ask you something. A little under a year ago, someone applied to become a State Alchemist, using a chimera that understood human speech.”

The chimera began growling in reply, immediately tensing, at that.

Mustang continued, “It said only one thing, ‘I want to die,’ and then it refused to eat. It starved to death. I wasn’t in charge, but everyone heard about it.” His eyes narrowed, “How likely is it that this alchemist used a human?”

Bunny’s teeth bared in a vicious expression, “I would bet you, if you looked, you would find that someone went missing or disappeared. Perhaps pull some strings and have that person arrested, before they hurt someone else?” Her lips closed back over her teeth again, “Alchemy can do wonderful things…but it can be horrible, too. I won’t dismiss the idea that Edward and Alphonse can find a way to restore themselves, but I’m fused perfectly with my animals. I doubt you can undo it without something going wrong. What happened to that chimera, I’m sorry to say, doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen…don’t feel like it, though.”

Mustang kept the expression off his face, but he felt his heart twist, at that. She was extremely vague, and, taking a page out of his own book, probably had been through more than she let on. Just looking at her eyes, he could tell she had seen far more than any teenager should have been forced to endure. The boys had seen the worst, and so had this chimera. Their lives were all irreversibly altered.

Bunny probably noticed that he took a little bit longer than normal to respond, but he continued, “Well, then,” Mustang began, looking over the group in the kitchen, “Thank you for your time. We’ll be on our way.” He exited the dining room, “Hawkeye, we’re going!” Mentally, he committed himself to looking into the alchemist who had made the one recorded talking chimera a bit further. He would have to call Maes about it. He wanted to look into missing children reports, too.

As they got further from the house, Hawkeye spoke, “Do you really think they’ll come? That boy…I’ve never seen someone with so much defeat in their eyes before.”

“That’s what you saw?” Mustang asked, as they got into the car. “He’ll come eventually, there was fire in those eyes.”

……

Everyone watched Mustang and Hawkeye leave through the window, their vehicle disappearing down the road, before Bunny turned to look at Edward, “You’ve got that look on your face.” She noted, feeling the tension melt from her body. She put up a deceptively brave front; she was a good actor, but she had been _terrified_ that Ed would get sent to some sort of juvenile prison somewhere, and that Al and her would be carted off to a laboratory…but Bunny…had not gotten, exactly, a sense of _danger_ from Roy Mustang, _or _Riza Hawkeye. In fact, it had slowly subsided the longer their interaction had been. The only time that she had truly snapped at any of them was when Mustang looked like he was about to physically grab Alphonse. She could not help, though, the fact that she felt the urge to growl at the Lieutenant Colonel. Nerves did that, and her inner animals were pretty responsive to perceived threats. Danger was not always an overt thing, when it came to humans.

“Granny,” Edward spoke, finally, his voice holding conviction behind it, “I’ll do it.” He said, “I’ll become a State Alchemist, and we’ll find a way to restore our bodies.” He looked at her, “So give me automail so I can move freely.”

Pinako stared at him, hard for a moment, “I don’t suppose I can change your mind?” She asked.

“…I doubt that…” Alphonse said, hesitantly. Bunny had only known Edward for a month, but just like Al, she recognized that when Ed got that determined expression, he would be impossible to deter. Automail, though, was a serious, life-changing thing. People with those prosthetics could move around just like someone who had never lost their limbs, though the same flawless coordination achievable for delicate tasks like writing could not be restored. They were regardless, though, superior to anything else, because of the mobility they allowed. Initially, it would seem like an amazing thing with few cons, but there was a reason that people who had enough money to afford a mechanic still chose not to get it, regardless.

The problem was Edward’s age. Automail, even for adults, required regular maintenance and upgrades. While _removing_ automail was fine, reconnecting it shocked a person’s nerves and caused them enough pain to make even the most stoic of individuals scream. Edward was not even an adult, yet, so in addition to all of the care required for an adult, he would constantly have to have his automail altered, to accommodate increases in height, or changes in his frame. He was eleven, and had not even hit his major growth spurt, yet. Outside the mechanic, he would have to be fanatical about applying oil to the joints to keep them lubricated properly, and keep water off of it, or the steel would rust. Bunny knew this much from just listening to brief explanations from Winry. Ed probably knew this, too, but it was a huge commitment.

Pinako hummed thoughtfully, “You’ll have to be awake for the surgery, you know? We give you a bit of numbing, but that’s all, and it’s only enough to prevent you from going into shock. We’ll have to re-cut your limbs to make them clean, and you have to be able to feel so we know we’re connecting the nerves right when we build the port.”

“How long does it take to recover from it?” He asked.

“Roughly three years, before you’ll be able to handle walking or moving around normally.” The old woman answered.

“I’ll do it in one.” Edward decided.

Of course, only Edward Elric would push his recovery and reduce the time by two-thirds. Bunny huffed, “You’re signing yourself up for torture, making statements like that. I hope you realize that wherever you decide to go, I’ll probably be going, too. I don’t think Alphonse is going to sit this one out, either, if I’ve learned anything from living with you two for a month.” She told him, limping over to stand in front of his wheelchair. Al made an affirmative sound, agreeing with her.

“Bunny, you don’t have to come with us. This is _our _mistake, and you said you couldn’t reverse what happened…” Edward looked up at her, and was met with a hard glare.

“You took me in as a part of your household, so no matter what you say, I’m going to follow you. You can lock me up, but if you do that, I’m going to break free and _walk_ to East City, when that day comes. So don’t even try to argue. I’ll respect your decision to go through with becoming a Dog of the Military, so please respect the fact that I’m coming with you, _like it or not_.”

“…You’re really tough, Bunny…” Al said, suddenly. “You growled at that military guy the entire time.”

She tossed her head, “I don’t _feel_ tough. Just because I act scary doesn’t mean I’m not terrified. I’m just really good at hiding it, or functioning in spite of it. Frankly, a lot of things could have gone wrong. We’re lucky he seems more determined to recruit a State Alchemist, than pursue illegal transmutations…or lock away chimeras. I’m sure he has some sort of motive behind why he’s willing to recruit kids, but it does make me a bit leery. He’s got plenty of blackmail material.”

Winry flinched, at that, but she walked up and looked at Ed, “Granny, let me help build the automail. If Ed is going to do this, I want to do something, too.” She said, determined.

Edward and Winry, Bunny thought, were very similar when it came to personalities. Winry had a temper that sometimes managed to completely engulf Ed’s, at times. Both brothers feared her wrath, and the girl was only eleven years old. What the chimera loved about her, though, was that she was tough in her own way. She helped Pinako perform the operation that saved Ed’s life, so she could easily handle constructing his automail and the ports. It probably meant something to her, too, that this was one of her closest childhood friends getting the surgery. For someone who lived and breathed for designing the prosthetics, there was probably no greater way of expressing love or concern. Bunny was not an expert on automail, but she was positive that passion amounted to a great deal in any profession.

“Alright, then, Winry.” Pinako nodded at her granddaughter, before looking at Edward again, “We’ll give you a few days to recover from your original blood loss, Ed, but then you’ll have to do the surgery. Our recent shipment should have everything we need to build the ports. Keep in mind that even once your arm and leg are constructed, the surgery sites have to heal before we attach them. You don’t use a port that’s still healing.”

“Got it,” Edward replied, eyes gleaming.

“Also, Ed?” Bunny’s voice had a sweet note to it, and he tensed, looking at the chimera nervously. When _Winry _or _Pinako_ got upset, they immediately snapped to anger, but Bunny was a little more ominous. She had this gentle tone that was completely innocent, but at the same time, sounded like she was plotting murder.

“Yeah?” Edward was not sure where she was going with this. _Good._

“When everyone is worrying themselves sick about you, say something. You weren’t speaking and that was very upsetting.” She responded, a somewhat-false canine smile on her face. The smile faded, “Also,”

She lowered her head and licked his wrist, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Edward gave her a smile that seemed to hurt, at that. Bunny had continued to lick people’s hands or wrists since the Elrics had adopted her. At some point, Ed had asked her why she did it, considering her human origins. He had, perhaps rightfully, asked if it made her uncomfortable, although it was also because he had been disgusted by it.

It was complicated, how Bunny displayed affection. Licking was easily like a form of kiss, and humans liked to attach romantic meaning to it, at times. The problem was, Bunny was a massive chimera that resembled a dog, and while a human could hug someone they liked, no problem, Bunny could not. A dog that jumped up on people, specifically _large_ dogs, could harm them by knocking them over, especially if the person they did that to was small, or old and frail. It was considered a form of misbehavior, which went against Bunny’s efforts to be seen as well-behaved enough to take into public places, even off a leash. She was unable to hug someone, even if she really, desperately wanted to.

Thus, Bunny resorted to licking someone’s hand or wrist, and that was as close to a proper hug as she could give, unless the person was postured and expecting it, which Ed, at the moment, was not. Just like a human with hugs, Bunny felt uncomfortable licking strangers, and felt completely fine doing it for people she liked and cared about, perhaps thanks to all of her animal components having that as a form of affection.

Edward, after realizing just how significant a simple lick on the wrist or hand was, had never complained about Bunny’s kisses since, nor had anyone else. He knew what the display of affection meant, but also the loss it represented. It probably meant even more, now, given what the brothers had just been through. It was a shame that they were better able to sympathize, because it came through _suffering._ It would have better, had they remained ignorant of all the deeper meanings behind her actions.

“Hey…” Winry’s voice took a familiar angry, irritated edge, “Bunny’s _right!_ Why didn’t you say something after you woke up? Huh?”

Edward pressed his back into the wheelchair, the closest he could get to backing away when he was unable to move. Alphonse, behind him, had his hands up in a placating gesture. Although the armor itself had no expression, Bunny was pretty positive that Al would have been sweating from anxiety. Edward, meanwhile, really _was_ sweating. “I was really upset…?” He offered, as if he was unsure that would count as a valid excuse.

“Well, _Al _and_ Bunny_ didn’t shut down on us!” Winry had a raised fist, and it was clenched so tightly that the knuckles had gone white. The older brother was lucky that he was already seriously injured, and that the youngest member of the Rockbell family was not currently holding any sort of blunt instrument. Winry was the sort to whack someone on the head if they did something wrong, and Edward, in particular, tended to be the biggest target of her ire. Bunny, given that this seemed to be normal, did not intervene, even though she normally would be inclined to. Best to leave childhood friends to their own devices. She simply sat and watched as Ed tensed in his wheelchair, unable to escape. Bunny did not _need_ to get angry; Winry did a good enough job of it for the both of them.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry it won’t happen again! Honest!” Edward waved his left hand wildly, shrinking in his seat.

The girl gave an irritated huff, before letting go of the issue, and folding her arms, “Well, we’re not going to be able to give you the surgery for another week, probably, but we can get you measured, at least, so we can start building things. It’s not like you’ll grow fast enough that they won’t fit by the time your ports heal up. You don’t drink your milk, after all.”

_“Shut up! I’ll grow and be taller than all of you!”_ Edward’s temper was immediately triggered.

Bunny sighed as the two eleven-year-olds proceeded to argue back-and-forth about Ed’s height and his refusal to drink milk (Bunny was not even a huge fan of milk, herself, but she had _never_ seen someone have an aversion as bad as Ed did, except that one kid who had stomach issues at the facility if he had it). She looked at Al, and walked around so that she would not be speaking over the two arguing parties. “I guess we’re going on a big research hunt, huh?” She asked, “Well, not immediately…but…eventually.”

Al nodded, “We might be able to find a way to turn you back, too, Bunny…although I know you keep saying it’s not reversible.”

Bunny forced a smile, “Al, you and Ed have a decent shot at it. You’re discussing entirely human bodies. I’m a mix of six separate creatures, and it’s not just physical, it’s mental and emotional, too. I won’t be ‘Bunny,’ anymore, if you do that to me. I’ll be someone else, and a bunch of animals that might know more than animals should.” She tilted her head at him, the smile fading, “But…I’ve got you, and Ed, and Winry and Pinako, too. I’m finding happiness, in my own way.”

“I’ll still hope for you to be able to go out and not pretend to be a dog, then.” Al responded, his hands fisting, “If you won’t, then brother and I will do it for you.”

Her heart just kept _breaking_ over how sweet these people were. She would have shed tears, if her body still had that capability. “I…don’t know how to respond to that…” Bunny looked out the window.

Pinako, watching both the argument between Edward and Winry, and hearing the conversation between Bunny and Alphonse, could only smile; a small, mysterious thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Back at East City)
> 
> Mustang: Hawkeye, tell no one what you saw, and also, please refrain from letting anyone know the actual size of the dog.
> 
> Hawkeye, completely serious in appearance, but inwardly laughing: Are we intending to surprise them if Bunny comes with the brothers?
> 
> Mustang: Yes. That is exactly what we are going to do.


	5. Life in Mass Transit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after the accident, Edward, Alphonse, and Bunny set out to East City, taking advantage of the rare opportunity that was offered. Having never taken trains or left Resembool before, they find public transportation for pet owners to be rather awful, and so does everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to write Ed's alchemy test, but this chapter has some major plot deviations, and wound up becoming a monster on its own. Trying to cram the test into this actual chapter would have made it greatly exceed the word count that I keep as a standard. Please forgive me if it's a little strange.
> 
> This chapter covers the awkward part where Ed actually has to get Mustang to escort him to Central, which was apparently skipped in most media, if not all. Because a lot of characters have dialogue, I hope I did a decent job keeping everyone's personality the way it should be. I have no preexisting reference for some of the scenes, here, and it gets harder to write things the more characters in one place there are. I thought this would be an interesting chapter to write, because Bunny's presence does affect how the Elrics go in public. Bunny, identifiable as a dog, will be barred from places based on that.
> 
> Also, Mustang has never actually properly seen Edward in his normal mindset. His first introduction, Ed was in a depressed, nonverbal state. This chapter is meant to show, a bit, people really meeting the boys properly, for the first time, where they can actually interact and respond normally. This chapter is meant to be much more lighthearted than the past few, and serves as a bit of a buffer for future events, which will touch on darker subject matter. This chapter was actually very difficult to write, because of how interaction-heavy it was, and because of just how many people are interacting in a group at once. On the bright side, we get to see a few more little hints about Bunny's past, however small, and perhaps some foreshadowing of future events, also.
> 
> ...Our favorite goofball dad and little girl show up in this chapter! I hope you like it!

“Okay, so, we just take the train to East City from here, and then the Lieutenant Colonel can handle whatever else…I’m sick of this place.” Ed glared at the map of train routes, before crumbling it up into a ball and stuffing it into the pocket of his cloak. He looked sidelong at Bunny, currently sitting on the ground next to where he was on the wooden bench, “I’m ready for us to go somewhere where they’ll let you walk around without having to wear a leash.” He told her, folding his arms, his expression irritated.

“It bothers me too, brother...” Alphonse replied, sitting on the bench next to him.

Bunny, herself, huffed and rested her head on Ed’s shoulder, not really caring that she got the automail side. She had told him and Alphonse to expect this when they started taking the trains, but the rules surrounding animals were getting old incredibly fast. The place they had stopped at to get food in Pleonuk had forced Alphonse to stand outside with her while Ed went in, because pets were not allowed inside. The train cars they had to take were different because most of them forbade animals or pets—something should be said, about this, that some people did not bother to _bathe_ their pets. The animal-friendly train cars had a faint, zoo-like smell, and enough shed fur to send the two biological members of their trio into sneezing fits. It was all over Bunny’s fur, and Ed’s cloak. Alphonse had hairs sticking out of the joints in his armor.

It was really annoying, though, that in addition to being unable to verbally communicate like normal people, and the general ‘no pets allowed’ nonsense, a leash was added to their troubles. Ed held the end of the lead so loosely it would be easy to rip it from his hand, after struggling to figure out how to avoid yanking on the chimera’s collar too hard, or pulling the human along like a ragdoll. Although they had been pretending to be pet and owners in public for a year, now, within a few weeks of living in Resembool, residents had relaxed around Bunny enough to say she no longer needed a leash to be in their shop. It was woefully apparent that they never had Bunny on a leash.

Waiting for their next train that would arrive any minute, now, the brothers were having seemingly one-sided conversations with their chimera companion, looking to any onlookers like a pair of crazy people. Bunny’s responses, a combination of quiet noises and subtle shifts in posture or body language, were something that the brothers could read with startling accuracy, enough to get a good idea of what she would say, if she _could_ speak, in that moment. Gradually, over time, Bunny’s more dramatic communication methods, like loud howls or full-body nods, had become more subtle with the Elrics, until they were almost imperceptible. She still retained them for strangers that had no idea how to speak _dog_, but the brothers had attained mastery that no longer required her to go above and beyond just to get her point across.

It still looked like they were just babbling at a creature and imagining her response, though. Someone was bound to make fun of it, at some point.

“Maybe we’ll be lucky and East City will be fine.” Ed tilted his head as he looked sidelong at the chimera, not bothered by the fact that he was being used like a pillow at the moment.

Bunny made a quiet, rumbling growl at that. She had never been in East City, before, so she had no idea what it would be like. There was just as much chance they would have an ordinance forcing dogs to be on leashes.

“We can dream, right?” He responded, catching the doubt in her response.

Bunny gave a quiet sound almost like a hum, then, which was basically the same as quiet agreement.

A slowing train pulled into the station, and Alphonse stood up abruptly, “I think that’s our train.” He said, turning to look at Bunny and Edward, “Brother, you still have the letter, right? And the tickets?”

Ed pulled the items out of his other pocket, the one not occupied by a crumpled map of the country’s railway system, “Got ‘em, Al.” He replied, before storing the letter back where it would be safe, and handing him his ticket. “I’m glad they let us keep them up until East City. I was getting real sick of that one car, but I think Pleonuk is worse. Next time we get on a train we’ll take our own food with us, or one of us can go to a non-animal car and get something.”

In all honesty, none of the three had ever ridden a train before, and it should have been obvious they would have no idea how the system worked. Food was provided for passengers, as it turned out, in cars that did not have pets. It was generally easy to get up and just go grab something from another car and come back, provided you let someone watch your dog or cat or bird or whatever. Their group, not knowing this, had deliberately scheduled so that they would have about two hours in Pleonuk for food before getting on another train, and had only realized how unnecessary their stop had been after people walked off non-pet cars carrying travel foods like loaves of bread or sandwiches. They could have already been in East City, by now, had this bit of confusion not occurred.

Bunny lifted her head away from Edward’s shoulder, allowing him to rise from his seat. “Well, let’s find our car and get on. Hopefully this one won’t smell as bad…or have so much loose fur.”

The chimera, following him on the leash, shuddered slightly at that. She was part brown bear, and as such, had the strongest sense of smell of any living creature. The cars for pet owners could smell horrible to human noses. Having a nose like Bunny’s made the scent of any occasion where poorly trained animals had marked the car ten times worse.

The handed their tickets to the employee in charge and ambled along the platform until they found the car with their number on it, before entering through the side door. It smelled faintly like wet dog (Not unusual) but was distinctly better smelling than the last one. It did, though, have an awful lot of claw marks on some of the seats, from people letting smaller dogs sit on them. Edward and Al took up two sides of a booth across from each other, and Bunny sat down between them in the empty space.

Al turned and looked over at an older person who was boarding the train with a grey terrier that looked as elderly as he himself was. “Excuse me, sir, are you stopping in East City?” He asked.

The old man blinked at him owlishly, for a moment, taking in the sight of a suit of armor, before giving him a smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges, “Yes, sir. Anything you wanted to know? Seems like you got a question.” He sat down in the booth across from theirs over the aisle, as a few more people slowly entered the car.

“Well, our dog is really big, but she’s extremely well-behaved. She gets along well with other animals and people, too. She never walks on a leash where we live, and we wanted to ask if they needed leashes in East City or not.” He asked.

The old man looked down at Bunny, “Well, no, there’s no rule. Now if your dog gets attacked by another animal, you can’t hold the other party responsible, if she’s off a leash, but…I think another dog would be crazy to tackle that one. Big as a horse, eh?”

Bunny looked at him and blinked slowly. She had heard that particular joke plenty in Resembool.

“Her name’s Bunny.” Ed told him, even as he was opening up a tiny book and attempting to tune out the world around him. “Thanks for telling us about the leash rule, though. She doesn’t need it.”

The old man gave a quiet chuckle, at that, “No problem.”

If Pleonuk had seemed busy, then East City was a madhouse. It benefitted from having a massive train station, because a large building was the only way that it would ever be able to accommodate the huge crowd of people boarding and exiting trains there. As soon as the doors opened, Ed and Al forced their way out, with Bunny bringing up the rear. Once they were off the platform, Edward wasted no time in unclipping the leash from her collar, an expression like victory on his face. He had hated the leash just as much as the chimera.

“Brother, where are we supposed to go?” Al asked, as they slowly made their way out of the building.

“East Command should be in the center of the city, so we just need to go there.”

Bunny gave a louder whine so that she would be heard over the other people in the area. Did Ed even know where the center of the city _was?_ The chimera was familiar with how cities were generally structured, but none of the three individuals present knew anything about East City’s layout in particular, and where the train station factored in. If Ed was just blindly rushing towards whatever he thought the ‘center’ of the city was, they were going to get lost and wind up with a very irritated Lieutenant Colonel waiting for their arrival.

“That’s really not specific enough, brother.” Al responded, lowering his voice to a normal volume as they came out onto cobblestone streets smooth enough that one could barely feel the gaps between them.

“Relax, I brought a map,” Ed responded, pulling out a rolled-up piece of paper from his pocket, and unfolding it. He pointed to a spot, “East City train station, right here, so if we go up two streets and make a right?” He mused, pointing over the map in front of him. He squinted, looking over at the street signs in the distance, “…No, other way. Not the right streets over there.”

He rolled the map back up and tucked it into his pocket, turning to look at his brother and the chimera, “It’s mostly a straight shot, so that makes it easy, for us.”

With that, he slowly started walking along, with the two following him. Bunny, given she was no longer wearing a leash, stayed close to the brothers and walked between them, wary of other people watching. People gawked at anything strange, and she could feel eyes on their odd little group. Alphonse’s armor was very conspicuous, and that was further amplified by the massive dog walking near him. Ed’s red cloak caught the eye, but he was the least bizarre out of the three. Al might have felt it, but Ed seemed oblivious to the looks they garnered, or more likely did not care. Bunny felt uncomfortable with the attention they were getting.

After a long trek through the city, they came to a large number of steps leading up to what was unmistakably East Command, where a group of military police guarding the entrance stopped them. “Uh, excuse us, but we came here on the recommendation of Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang?” Alphonse began, while Edward pulled out the letter he had been carrying and handed it over to the nearest official.

He opened it and looked it over, briefly, before his eyes widened, and he closed it, handing it back to Edward, “Stay here, I’ll go fetch-“

“-No need.” A familiar voice interrupted, as the same military official from a year ago descended the steps, Roy Mustang. Riza Hawkeye was close behind.

He fixed an assessing gaze on the three, before focusing on Edward, “It’s about time you got here. I almost thought you would be late.”

“Yo, Lt. Colonel.” Ed responded, his expression looking very much displeased to see him, and barely keeping it out of his voice as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

“I was promoted to Colonel while you were being slow.” Mustang corrected him, “Are you ready for this?” He asked.

“Bow wow, you want me to wag my tail?” Ed responded, scowling.

Behind him, Al sighed, and Bunny rumbled in the back of her throat, making one of the MP’s actually back away half a step. As much as the chimera begrudged the fact that a twelve-year old was going to turn himself into a living weapon, Mustang had offered valid reasons for why he should do so. Funding and restricted research materials would make it a lot easier for Edward and Alphonse to find methods of restoring themselves. Usually, knowledge was for the public good, but alchemy could be so dangerous that it was hardly surprising that some information, especially about things like bio-alchemy, would be locked away. It was not exactly comforting, though, that the _military_, specifically, had access to this information. Amestris was not exactly a peaceful country, if their history of border conflicts and civil wars was any indication.

Unfortunately, the animal part of Bunny’s mind that still registered _threat_ when she saw the Colonel was particularly strong, so a growl of agreement came out more feral than it should have been. Or determined—there was a blur, there, really. Mustang was not actually forcing Ed to do anything, and he had kindly kept Bunny’s status as a chimera a secret. He was actually being generous, considering that a textbook officer would have tossed Bunny in a cage, sent Al off as a lab specimen, and arrested Edward. The problem, then, was that this Colonel had _too much leverage_ against the three. He could make them do anything he wanted, because of how easily he could destroy their lives.

Mustang, perhaps _because_ he knew his position of power, was not even remotely concerned by Ed’s show of defiance, and merely smirked, instead, “Good, then I’ll take you to Central.” He responded. “You’re just in time for us to catch the next train leaving in an hour.”

It was then Edward’s turn to smirk, “Ever been on one of the pet cars, Colonel?”

Mustang frowned slightly.

An unexpected, but positive thing about being stuck with Mustang and Hawkeye as escorts, as it turns out, was that so many civilian passengers were deterred by their military uniforms that nobody except the two officers, the brothers, and Bunny wound up on the same car. They had the entire thing to themselves, and when the train pulled out of the station like this, the Colonel had blinked with something like bewilderment, that it had even happened at all. He was probably used to at least a few people staying around, even if they held distaste for those who worked for the government. He also looked distinctly _uncomfortable_, upon realizing the state the pet car was in. As usual, it smelled like animals, lots of loose fur floating around and already starting to cling to his uniform. A sort of everyday torture that the Elrics and their chimera would inevitably have to endure.

Once the train was moving and safely out of the station, Bunny spoke, “Wow, people avoid military officials far more than I thought they did, but lucky me, because that means we have a whole car to ourselves and I can talk during the ride.” She did not shift her posture much from where she was resting her head on her paws, but her tail wagged slightly. Edward and Alphonse had taken up the bench on one side of the booth, with Ed by the window, and Mustang was next to the window with Hawkeye on the other side.

“Yeah, you haven’t been able to talk since we left Resembool.” Ed responded, looking down at her. Although it was guaranteed to be frustrating for Bunny, the brothers did not really enjoy having to play the owner game, either. The chimera was a person in their eyes, and forcing her to walk on a leash, or not speak in public, even if it was for the sake of maintaining their cover, was tiring. “How are you holding up?” He asked.

She huffed, “Irritated, but I’ll live.” The chimera raised her head, turning to look between Mustang and Hawkeye, “So, your thoughts on our lovely pet car today?”

The Colonel tried to force a smile that came out more like a grimace “Seems like it hasn’t been cleaned, in a while.”

“Yeah, the worst thing? You have no idea where it came from._ That’s_ the part that makes your skin crawl.”

Edward made a disgusted face, “Don’t remind me.”

Bunny looked back at him, “Sorry, Ed, but I’m just saying aloud what everyone is probably thinking.”

Hawkeye offered a small smile, at this, “Looks like you’ve been doing pretty well since we last saw you.” She said.

The chimera looked at her, “Hawkeye, right? Yeah, things have been pretty good. I didn’t actually get to talk to you, last time we met.” Her ears lowered for a moment, before going back to normal, “You grew out your hair? It looks lovely.”

Hawkeye seemed briefly surprised, before recovering, “Thank you.”

Alphonse shifted, the metal armor creaking a little, “So…Colonel? What exactly is the State Alchemist exam like?” He asked, polite, as always.

Everyone turned to look back at Mustang, who folded his arms, the brief conversation gone in an instant. “The State Alchemist exam is split into three parts, a written exam, a psychological evaluation, and then the practical. The written exam is advanced, and takes hours to complete; most people don’t finish it. The psychological portion, they’re checking to make sure you’re loyal to the government, just as much as they’re looking for traditional red flags. So long as you display skills that would be useful in the field, your practical will be fine.”

Alphonse looked at Edward, “Brother’s really good at alchemy, I think he can do it.”

Ed shrugged slightly, “Eh, I’m not worried.”

Bunny raised herself up so that she was sitting back on her haunches, “I’d hope not. It’s a shame we probably won’t get to see your practical.”

Mustang kept his face a blank mask, but she saw a glint of curiosity, barely discernible even to a trained eye, when he spoke, “Got some sort of trick up your sleeve?”

Bunny’s tail wagged slightly, “If we told you before you saw what he could do, that would ruin all our fun.”

“She’s right, Colonel.” Edward smirked.

If Mustang was disappointed he was being kept out of the loop, he did not let it show, “Well, alright then. I look forward to watching.” He gave a confident smile that would grate on the nerves, “A little kid applying-“

He was cut off by Edward’s immediate temper, _“Who’re you calling a tiny little ant so small that he doesn’t need to worry about getting squashed!” _He snarled.

Alphonse caught the side of his jacket while Bunny moved to stand between him and the Colonel. “Brother, please, he didn’t say that.”

“Where are you getting these phrases from?” Bunny asked, before turning her attention to Mustang, who was blinking with a hint of bewilderment, before his face went back to the calm expression that seemed to be his default. The outburst had surprised _both_ officers, a little. Not that the chimera blamed them. Ed’s height complex was one of the most dramatic things she could name, alongside Winry’s tendency to hit people with blunt objects when she was annoyed. Sure, he was a bit—she would not risk _thinking_ it, even—but he was only twelve. It was nothing to be concerned over, as far as she could tell.

With Ed still fuming behind her, held back by Al, Bunny gave one of her eerie, ‘I’m being polite but I’m contemplating biting your face off’ canine smiles. She was not inclined to be super sweet and apologetic, just because of the Colonel’s rank, no matter how wrong the older brother’s outburst was. Her aim was to protect the Elrics, first. “I’m terribly sorry, Mustang.” The threatening look faded, “You were saying?”

“Plenty of people will be interested in Edward’s application, especially if he succeeds.” Mustang wisely chose to ignore the scene, although Bunny felt, rather than saw, his desire to tease Ed further.

Ed yanked his shoulder out of his brother’s grip, and settled back in his seat, slumping against the window, his expression defiant. “Just watch and learn,” He said, before proceeding to call Mustang a highly offensive name.

Alphonse tensed, “Brother!”

“Language, Ed! No names!” The chimera scolded.

“Oh, I’m terrified,” Mustang said, a mocking smile on his face, meeting Edward’s challenging gaze. These two were going to be at each other’s throats if they were stuck working together. Bunny could feel it, just from these brief interactions. The Colonel had never actually spoken with Edward before. He had been borderline catatonic, the last time the two had met. She could now see that Ed’s general dislike of authority was going to have him talking back to the man, and Mustang seemed to enjoy provoking people…or at least those who had no means of getting back at him.

“Colonel, please.” Hawkeye warned, and he shot her an irritated look, like she was ruining his fun. Bunny found the silent exchange between the two officers, in that moment, a little bit funny.

There was a long, peaceful lull, then, that lasted for a while, before Bunny had a question.

“…So, I might as well ask. It’s going to be a bit _late_ by the time we show up in Central, probably. Is there a hotel or something we can stay at?”

Mustang shifted, “I called ahead to let someone know we would be coming. I was initially going to reserve a room for you at one of the hotels, but they graciously offered to let you stay at their home, until Edward completes his assessment.”

Alphonse looked up, at that, “Who?”

The Colonel folded his arms, “A Lieutenant Colonel who’s a good friend of mine. He had objections to making a bunch of children stay by themselves.”

“So basically he’s a glorified babysitter, is that it?” Ed grumbled, irritated at being called a child.

“Hardly,” Mustang replied, “He loves having guests.” For some reason Bunny thought there was more to this than that, but there was sincerity in his words, regardless. “He wanted to meet the three of you.”

“Three?” Bunny echoed. “You told him?”

“He’s trustworthy, and he means well.” Mustang responded.

She was not sure how much she liked that total strangers were being told that she was a chimera, but Bunny let it go, though, because it had already been done. She turned to look at Ed, “Can I get my sketchbook? Since nobody’s around to watch, I’d like to do some drawing.”

“Sure thing,” He moved to retrieve it from the suitcase.

Mustang, again, seemed curious, but surprised, as well, “You can draw?”

Bunny showed her teeth slightly. There was a hint of disbelief in his tone that went beyond the wonder you saw from someone when that question was asked of a normal human. The Colonel was definitely trying to treat Bunny like a person, but it was easy to perceive her as limited, or even take that for granted. Her sense of pride was a little offended, “I’m an artist, and a good one, too, if you’ll pardon the boast. I was devoted to it, before, and now, as well. This body doesn’t change that.” Her words did not come out angry, but there was steel in them.

“Bunny couldn’t hold writing utensils correctly when she found us,” Ed joined, handing her the sketchbook and a pen, which she took, just as a person would, by gripping them between her toes and dewclaws. She set them down on the floor in front of her, and flipped open the cover of the sketchbook with a claw tip. “She started training for hours every day, trying to learn how to do it with her hands like that.” He opened and closed his own left hand thoughtfully, “Wound up practicing with her, since I have to use my left to write.”

“Well, your writing is really beautiful, now. Puts a lot of people I used to know to shame.” Bunny mused, flipping through pages of pen-and-ink drawings that were highly detailed. ‘B. L.’ was the set of initials she had signed in the corner of what was finished. Bunny had no intentions of using her human name, but had not felt comfortable asking the brothers if they would let her use their surname. The ‘B’ stood for ‘Bunny’, though, and there were plenty of surnames out there starting with ‘L’.

“I don’t see how it’s better than anyone else’s.” Ed responded, doubtful.

“I knew a guy who used to beg me to share my notes with him. I’d ask why he needed mine when he’d been there, writing, too, in class. He proceeded to tell me he couldn’t read his own notes. He then showed them to me, because I thought that made no sense, and sure enough, it was scribbles. His handwriting was that bad.”

“I find that hard to believe,” The elder brother fought to keep an amused expression from his face.

“Edward, I am dead serious. I don’t know _how_, but that’s really what happened.”

“May I see?” Mustang asked.

The chimera obligingly lifted up the little booklet and offered it to him. He took it and slowly flipped through the pages, Hawkeye examining them from the side.

“You weren’t joking. You could show this to someone in public and they would never know.” Mustang mused, handing it back. Bunny took it and proceeded to flip to a blank page, setting the booklet down again, and tapping the pen’s back almost like a fidget against the floor.

Bunny gave a small snort, a genuine smile, though small, on her features, “This is the one thing I’ll admit to being proud about…granted it’s not good to be that way. I suppose _grateful_ would be a better word. If being turned into a chimera had taken away all my dexterity, I wouldn’t be able to open doors, or move around as freely as I do. There’s so much more than drawing that requires the use of a thumb.”

Alphonse joined the conversation, then, “Bunny’s learning to do alchemy, too.”

Bunny’s ear twitched, “If it ever comes down to me having to perform alchemy, we better hope the ground is dirt; for all my drawing skill, making perfect circles is pretty hard.”

“How good are you, at it?” Mustang prodded.

“Enough that when Al and I were sparring, she made a tiny hill and we both tripped and fell.” Edward offered. There was a note of pride in his voice, considering he and his brother had been responsible for teaching her everything she knew, despite being young.

Bunny huffed, “I was exhausted and wound up sleeping for the rest of the day, after that.”

“Still worked, though. You certainly surprised us.” Ed responded.

“You’re considering that basic alchemy, but if you’ve only started looking into it within the past year, then you actually display a bit of natural talent for it.” Mustang mused. “Most of the population can’t transmute at all. That ‘tiny hill’ that you made is actually very advanced. It’s more surprising you didn’t immediately collapse from the extertion.”

The chimera glanced back at the brothers, “Well, then I have really good teachers. These two, though, are on a completely different level.”

Ed frowned, “It would probably be easier for you to learn alchemy like what we do if you weren’t restricted so much. You can draw a proper array, but not that fast, unless it _is_ dirt, like you said, where you can use your claws.”

Alphonse spoke up, then, “…I was thinking maybe we could make some sort of cap for one of your claws. Like…a tip with chalk on it, so you could draw even if the ground wasn’t soft.”

Bunny hummed thoughtfully, “We would probably have trouble explaining that sort of accessory to people.”

The younger brother looked down, disappointed, “…Oh…”

Bunny waved one of her free paws just like a person would gesture, “No, no, that’s actually still a brilliant idea, Al. It would regardless be easier for me to transmute things if I was sketching the circles without having to actually hold something. At least in private, that would still be useful. I’d still try it.”

Ed squinted briefly, thinking.

Al looked at his sibling, “You have that look, brother, what are you thinking?”

“Bunny’s claws are black. What if we just used charcoal? People would have to really be looking to see it.” He looked at her, “You’d have to tell us more about that, though. I think you said once that there’s different kinds?”

“Vine and compressed. You’d want really dense compressed charcoal for a claw tip. Something that doesn’t smudge or crumble that easy. The vine would come right off. You might have to develop an adhesive, too, if it’s something that we remove, or transmute it directly onto my claw, tight enough to not come off.”

This triggered an entire discussion between the three about how something like a writing tool Bunny could use at any time would be crafted, while Mustang and Hawkeye quietly observed.

“Roy! You never come for a visit! How are you?” A man in a uniform with dark hair and glasses stepped up, clearly familiar with the Colonel, as soon as everyone had managed to clear off the train platform. Not knowing the regulations surrounding pets in Central, Bunny was, once again, clipped to a leash, this time held by Alphonse. She suspected this was the Lieutenant Colonel that had offered to let the trio stay at his house. He gave off a cheerful aura that Mustang did not seem to share.

“I’m doing well, Maes,” Mustang responded, though he seemed annoyed at the question. He stepped aside and gestured to the brothers and Bunny, “These are Alphonse and Edward Elric, and Bunny.”

Maes walked up and immediately offered his hand for the brothers to shake, “Hi there! I’m Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes! I’ve wanted to meet the two of you for a really long time!” He spoke rather quickly, and his handshakes were just as rapid, startling Ed and Al, momentarily. They seemed to recover, though, thanks to how warmly they were being welcomed, and while Al could not smile, she was sure he would have, just like Ed. Hughes looked to Alphonse, then, “So, you must be the older brother, Edward, right? Pleased to meet you!”

So Mustang had not told Hughes _everything_, otherwise he would have known that the younger brother was a disembodied soul inside the armor. Bunny shot the Colonel a look, only to see that he had an exasperated expression on his features. He was unable to maintain an untouchable officer mask around Hughes, interestingly enough.

“Um, actually, I’m his younger brother, Alphonse,” Hughes seemed thrown briefly, before looking at Edward, who had a sullen expression on his face.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I had no idea, he’s so-“

Bunny gave a sort of warning growl, then. It was not an aggressive sound, because there was a whining note that said, ‘I wouldn’t say that, if I were you.’ He jumped at that, before looking back at Ed, who was clearly about to launch into a rage if the word ‘small’ passed the man’s lips. No matter how good a mood the older brother was in, it would turn into a tantrum the moment he thought his height was being insulted. Hughes must have realized this, because his eyes widened almost imperceptibly behind his glasses, before he launched back into his conversation like nothing had happened.

“Well, anyway,” He moved on like it was nothing, “It’s nice to meet you!” He then directed his attention back to Mustang, perhaps as a calculated effort to let the three process what had just transpired. “Roy!” He pulled out a photograph from his pocket, putting it right in his face, “Have I shown you photos of my darling wife and daughter lately? Gracia’s so beautiful! And Nina’s a little genius!” Was he…crying? “And then we have another on the way! I’m sure they’ll be just as lovely! In a couple of weeks we’ll even know if it’s a boy or a girl!”

He then whirled around and shoved the same photograph in front of the boys, although it seemed to be angled where Bunny could see it, too. A woman with kind eyes who was not yet far enough along for her pregnancy to show, and a little girl with pigtails curled up on a sofa next to her. They looked happy.

This man loved his family a lot. Perhaps a bit obsessive, but there was no faking the sheer joy on his face when he talked about them.

_“Maes,”_ Mustang stressed, “We can’t stand here all day.”

Hughes straightened, “Right, right! The car is parked by the station. Allow me to escort you.”

He led them out of the area and to a car that, with Alphonse and Bunny combined, would make driving to Hughes’ house a bit of a mess. The suit of armor was huge, and the chimera required plenty of space, fitting for a creature jokingly referred to as a horse on several occasions. With Hughes in the driver’s seat, Ed and Al took up one seat in the car, facing Hawkeye and Mustang, while Bunny was uncomfortably cramped in the little aisle, trying not to crush anyone’s toes, and unpleasantly knocking into people every time they hit a bump in the road.

She looked at Al with a deadpan look, earning a giggle in response, “Sorry Bunny.” He responded, “I know this isn’t comfortable.”

She responded with an extremely human-like eyeroll and a grumbling sound, earning a bit of laughter from the boys, and an amused smile from Hawkeye.

The ride passed in relative silence, save for Hughes happily chattering away about his wife and daughter, much to Mustang’s chagrin. Perhaps because discussions of Hughes’ family were interspersed with prodding questions about why the Colonel, himself, had yet to marry, he wasted no time in forcing his way out of the car when they arrived, jostling Bunny on the way out. She gave an irritated huff at that.

“My apologies,” He told her, not entirely sincere. If he was unmarried, getting nagged by someone like Hughes was probably torture, she guessed.

Everyone slowly got out of the car, with Bunny hopping out last. It seemed Hughes lived in an apartment building. She hoped they allowed pets. Also, why did she always get stuck worrying about this stuff?

It must have not been a problem, as Hughes proudly led them up to the second floor and knocked on the door of one of the apartments. The woman from the picture opened the door, Gracia, but before she could hug her husband, the little girl with her twin pigtails shot out first. “Papa!” She shrieked, and Hughes immediately responded by lifting her up in his arms, “Oh Nina! Papa missed you!” He covered her face in kisses, eliciting a fit of giggles.

Bunny thought this display was adorable, and apparently so did Alphonse, but Edward looked a bit uncomfortable, not sure how to respond.

Hughes continued to shower his daughter with affection for a few more minutes, before Mustang cleared his throat in a ‘get to the point’ gesture.

The Lieutenant Colonel straightened and gestured to the brothers, “Gracia, Nina, these are the Elric brothers, and their companion, Bunny.” It did not escape the chimera that he referred to her as a ‘companion’, rather than a dog.

Nina stared at Ed and Al for a moment, before pointing at Alphonse, and then Edward, “Big brother, little brother!” She declared. Rather than any proper reference to age, she referred to their physical size.

Edward tensed, “Now see here, I’m Edward, and this is my younger brother, Alphonse,” He said through gritted teeth, “_Younger _brother…you got that?”

“But you’re little.” Nina insisted, “So you’re the little brother!”

Just when Bunny thought Ed would fly into a rage at a child who was probably _three_, at most, Nina turned to her, pointing, “Papa, look, bear! She looks like teddy!” She gestured wildly. The chimera was reminded, in that moment, strongly of how she had gotten her name from the Elrics. Her fur was soft, and that had earned her the name Bunny. Nina, though, was going closer to what she looked like. Apparently a teddy bear.

“That’s Bunny, Nina.” Hughes told her. Mustang, meanwhile, seemed to be smirking in a way that suggested that he found all of this adorable, or funny, or both. Bunny got the impression that this was actually a feeling shared by most of the people in the room. This little girl was _precious_. No wonder Hughes was unable to stop talking about her.

“Bear!” Nina insisted, before walking up to her and standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach Bunny’s face, but far too small to come anywhere near it. Obligingly, Bunny lowered herself into a crouch, and Nina jumped up and hugged her around the neck, actually lifting off the ground briefly, to do so. “She’s so fluffy!” She exclaimed, when she finally backed away.

Bunny was not even remotely offended by that description. Edward, too, seemed unable to truly get angry at this child, his brief irritation miraculously subsiding. Nina then proceeded to point at each of them, “Little big brother!” Was directed at Ed, “Big-big brother!” For Al, “Bear!” was the label assigned to Bunny.

“We’ll be stopping at Central Command to report you’re here, and then back to East City. I’ll return to come watch your practical.” Mustang proceeded to walk back out of the room, much to Hughes’ distress.

“Roy! Wait! Aren’t you and Hawkeye going to stay for dinner, at least?” He asked.

“The Colonel has some paperwork overdue back at the office.” Hawkeye responded, catching Mustang with a look that had him tensing, “It needs to be done.”

“Are you sure?”

Hawkeye shot him the same look she had been directing at Mustang, and he immediately backed off, “With absolute certainty.” She responded.

“Well…alright then…” Hughes seemed a little disappointed, “I’ll drive you two back to the station.” He started weeping _again_, “But what if our little baby is born soon and I'm not here?”

“Hughes, you’ve told me these concerns about fifty times over the phone. Don’t be ridiculous.” Mustang responded, a crease appearing on his brows from irritation. The expecting mother in the background kept smiling, perhaps used to her husband’s fretting.

“Lieutenant Colonel, let me give you some womanly advice,” Hawkeye began, _“A baby will not be born in just five months!”_

“Right, right! Understood!” Hughes shot past them through the door, presumably to start the car before the Lieutenant decided to carry out her vengeance if he refused to obey.

The three officers left, leaving Bunny, the Elrics, and the rest of the Hughes family standing near the entrance. They all exchanged blank looks for a moment.

“Can we play?” Nina asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I concluded that Gracia would probably not be far enough along in her pregnancy to show, really, or for people to determine that her baby was male or female. Because Nina is at different places in the FMA timeline based on Manga/Brotherhood, and 2003, I decided that she was three, here. The lack of mention that she is adopted is deliberate, but it will come up at some point, from Hughes himself. Hughes is aware that Bunny is a chimera, but not of the Elric brothers' physical states. Unfortunately, Hughes is an investigator at heart, so he might figure things out on his own. I learned from the series that Mustang may have not told Hughes, even, about the brothers initially, because there was an introduction where he got Alphonse mistaken for Edward.
> 
> As for the train scene, mentions of Bunny being capable of performing alchemy, and possessing what seems to be a natural talent for it. A huge reason for this is because, in the main story for Brotherhood, anyone who was not an alchemist talented enough to get on a list of sacrifices was outright killed, rather than kept alive. No matter how strong Bunny is, she would lose in a fight and be murdered by homunculi, unless there was some benefit to letting her live. Having her display just enough potential to be on that list is my aim. I also think she is at the age where most normal alchemists start learning the trade; Edward and Al are prodigies, learning at an extremely young age. 
> 
> Knowing how to perform transmutations, though, still comes with a risk, for Bunny. Animals cannot perform transmutations. The moment people see her use an array, that might as well be outing her as a chimera.
> 
> Now that my thoughts are passed, back to my scripts!
> 
> (At a dinner table)
> 
> Gracia: Alphonse, you don't have to wear your helmet at the table. How are you going to eat like that?
> 
> Al: Uh.....
> 
> Bunny: *Barks*
> 
> Gracia, looking away while Al hurriedly slips his bread inside his helmet: What is it?
> 
> Bunny, pretending to beg: *whines*
> 
> Gracia: I'm sorry, Bunny, but you can't have this.
> 
> (Gracia turns back to Al and sees the plate is empty)
> 
> Gracia: Oh...you ate that quickly...
> 
> Al, nervously giggling: I was really hungry...


	6. Grief for Someone We Never Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward, Alphonse, and Bunny interact and bond with the Hughes family, and Ed takes the written portion of the State Certification exams. Afterwards, Maes and Gracia Hughes reveal a disturbing truth about their daughter, Nina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say all of you people are amazing? It means a lot to me, that this story has been so well-received. Although it's a fanfiction, Patchwork is a story that's close to my heart because of the things I wanted to write about. It's truly special to me, that people like it so much. Thank you!
> 
> Regarding this chapter, I spent several days on individual portions of it, and it's slightly longer than what I have as my traditional length. I figure, though, it needs to have a good stopping point, so it's fine. Hughes is subtly digging for information, and Bunny does actually give him a small amount voluntarily, but she also gives more away than she consciously realizes, because a very observant person like the Lieutenant Colonel would pick up on even small hints. Hughes is an interesting person to write, because he flips from someone who gushes over his daughter to a very serious figure depending on the situation. I should mention that for someone like Bunny, Hughes is extremely easy to talk to.
> 
> This aside, me trying to figure out how to write a three-year-old child, and the entire cast basically adoring Nina. This chapter is kind of split between deeper subject matter and cute stuff. It goes back and forth. I spend a lot longer writing the heavier, deeper portions than I do the more playful things. I hope I got Nina's age correct with her character, and also, silly stuff happening because she can get away with anything.

“…You were having a nightmare. Are you okay?” Alphonse asked, red points of light focused on the chimera that was currently gasping and trying to ground herself. In spite of being part of the same household for an entire year, Bunny had never before slept in the same room as the boys. She had always been in a separate room, and had endured her nightmares in relative silence. Staying with the Hughes family, though, had forced them all to rest in the same spare bedroom. While Ed and Bunny fell asleep, Al had kept silent vigil, reading a book to pass the time.

That was until Al presumably saw some sort of reaction in the chimera’s sleep, and moved to wake her so she would no longer have to endure the ghosts that haunted her dreams. No matter what fuss she had produced, though, Edward remained in bed, out like a light, golden hair tossed askew without a braid to keep it in order. Her sensitive ears could pick out the sounds of him breathing, deep and even. It helped to calm her own frayed nerves, a bit.

Bunny took a few more deep breaths, before looking up at Alphonse, eyes catching the glow of the moon through the window, and the pupils reflecting white, like an animal. “…Yeah…got a lot of stuff that tends to come up when I sleep, unfortunately” She replied, her voice shaky, as her claws dug into the soft blanket that she had kept ever since Edward and Alphonse had made it for her. In the low light it seemed faded, but in the daylight it was decorated with thousands of little skulls, brilliant shades of vermillion red and ultramarine blue over a black background. A project that the three had made together that had come out tasteful, even in spite of Al’s lamentations about his brother’s choice of pattern.

Al looked over at Ed, still fast asleep, “Brother gets them, too…he seems fine this time, though.”

Bunny’s tail wagged slightly in response, before going still, “Probably for the best. He needs at least thirteen hours before he’s able to function.”

Her words were met with a tiny giggle, “And you sleep for ten.” He pointed out. Being a suit of armor that never slept meant he had a far better idea than anyone else about how many hours someone was resting. He probably counted them out of boredom. Bunny would.

The chimera faked a horrified gasp, before she lifted her snout up with a snooty aura, “Most of the things I’m made from sleep _much_ longer, I’ll have you know.” She turned her head away, like a snub, “_I _have an _excuse_.” Technically, so did Edward, given his age. He was still too young to default to a normal eight hours.

Rewarded with more quiet laughter, Bunny felt her heart settle. Alphonse was a blessing, he really was. Instead of asking her what she had been dreaming about, he was joking with her and helping her take her mind off of the horrible memories that assaulted her in her sleep. It was inevitable that she would eventually have to tell the brothers exactly what she was dealing with, but for now, they did not try to push the issue.

When Al’s laughter subsided, Bunny sighed, “I think I’ll head into the living room and maybe draw a bit. I don’t think I can go back to sleep right away.” She told him. The chimera walked over to their suitcase and slowly unzipped it, pulling out her sketchbook, and the ink pen that she was currently using, along with a tiny square of waterproof fabric she used to protect things. She set the fabric down and wrapped up the pen and sketchbook, before lifting them in her teeth so her hands were free to interact with objects. She walked over to the door and looked back at Alphonse, tilting her head in a question.

“I’ll stay in here and watch brother,” Al told her, in answer.

Bunny nodded and rose up onto her hind paws, gripping the doorknob with both hands and quietly turning it, trying to avoid making any too-loud noises that would wake up Edward, before silently slipping outside and shutting it behind her. Coming out into a small hallway with wooden flooring and off-white walls, she dropped back down to four limbs and trotted out into the living room, where once Nina’s toys were put away, there was nothing except a carpet on the main floorspace. At a desk to one corner, though, Maes Hughes sat, a light switched on, and pouring over stacks of papers, deep in thought. He looked up when she came into the room.

“Bunny, what are you doing up?” He asked, his tone more serious than what he usually adopted when doting on his wife and daughter. Like all human beings, Hughes had facets to his personality that came out depending on the scenario. This man was extremely observant, and equally clever. A person who usually gave off exuberant energy like a child, but was part of Investigations for a good reason.

Unable to answer while carrying things in her mouth, she trotted over to a corner where the floor was well-illuminated by moonlight, and set down her square of fabric, unfolding it so that she had access to her pen and sketchbook again. She lay down there, flipping open the sketchbook to find another blank page, “Couldn’t sleep.” She answered, tapping the pen thoughtfully against the floor, “Figured I’d draw something until my mind settles.” She flicked an ear and looked over at him, “Work related?” She asked.

Hughes gave her a smile that was friendly, but even with one eye hidden by a reflection in his glasses, the other…there was something like sadness in it. “Sometimes late nights happen.” He replied. The smile faded into something more serious, “Nightmare?”

Bunny tensed, the fidgeting stopping for a moment, before she huffed, a bitter canine smile on her features, “Al had to wake me up.” She responded. Her dreams were not always so scary that they warranted being woken up, but they were usually sad, and left her with a hollow ache in her chest. Talking with the brothers to distract herself or drawing had become a form of release from her emotions. There were worse ways to cope with how she felt. She also knew that trying to force herself to sleep when her mind was going too fast was a futile effort.

Hughes shifted his chair so that he was facing her, “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

Maybe just a small bit, to satisfy this man’s curiosity. For at least a week they would be living with the Hughes family, and there was no way to avoid him. Hughes was not actually asking about the nightmare, though, so much as the things that caused it. The Lieutenant Colonel was dangerous; kind enough to coax out words, but with ever-turning gears in his mind.

Al had stayed in the room with Ed, thankfully, so there were no questions asked. It was easy to assume he had just gone back to sleep, but Bunny honestly had no idea how long they would be able to hide the state of the brother’s bodies from this person. If Hughes barged into the spare bedroom and caught everyone off-guard, things would become obvious very quickly, but there were other risks. Even with Edward hiding his automail underneath clothing, metal was unnaturally stiff, and could be felt even through his jackets and trousers. Someone extremely observant might notice if they bumped into him, and though it would fool some people, his habit of insistently shaking hands using his left was unusual. Al never ‘removed’ his armor, and trying to pretend to eat was a mess, because while he could slip food into the mouth part using the excuse that he hated his face being seen, they still had to get rid of it afterwards.

They had a recipe for disaster, here. No matter how cunning the boys became thanks to constantly hiding the chimera’s secret, living under the same roof always carried risks. Bunny almost wished Mustang had just told Hughes so the three did not have to explain themselves.

The too-tight smile slipped from Bunny’s features and she flipped back a few pages in her sketchbook, gently touching a claw to an image she had drawn. She closed her eyes, “Mustang probably told you that someone else made me…but I never said anything about the place where I got transmuted. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, until I found Ed and Al, and I suddenly had a proper existence again. Five months of my life, locked in a cage.” The chimera opened her eyes and her gaze drifted to Hughes again, “I can’t talk about it easily, because that…_does_ something to you…how could it not?”

“So you didn’t immediately escape. You were being held captive.” Hughes summarized, his expression contemplative, “I imagine you haven’t told the Elrics too much about it. Smart kids, but they’re a bit young, I’m guessing, for you to feel comfortable with everything that you’d want to discuss.”

Bunny’s ears lowered, “It’s not easy to discuss with _anyone_, Hughes. You’re right that I hold back because of their ages, but I can’t even talk about it properly unless I’ve sorted it out, myself. I talk about it in bits and pieces, when I finally figure out how to word things.” She sighed, something very much like regret in her words, “They chose to be in the military, and they’re going to see things they’ll wish they didn’t know about…but I don’t want to rush them into seeing all the ugly things I went through.”

“So you’re not going to tell me anything else.” Hughes gathered. She could tell he wanted to hear more, but the chimera was not willing to go into more detail, other than explaining _why_, exactly, she had nightmares so often, or why they tended to be so severe at times. The Lieutenant Colonel was not inclined to be specific and demand answers. His way of getting information was more like gentle prodding, in contrast to his other behaviors. A subtle nudge to make people spill more information than they wanted to give.

“For now I’ve said enough on the matter. I don’t like dwelling on it.” Bunny responded, before flipping back to a blank page to work on.

“Can you see well enough with just that amount of light?” Hughes asked.

Bunny looked over at him again, and lifted her left hand to tap at the edge of one of her eyes. “If a creature has eyeshine, it can see at night. My focus is slightly weaker when it gets dark, but I can see a lot better in low light than a human. It’s relaxing, for me, to try and draw using just moonlight, as odd as that may sound. I’ve got some other projects I work on, though.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Her tail wagged, at that, “I’ve been working on developing a special skill involving transmutation, using ink and paper. I have trouble drawing perfect circles at a larger size, but I can do little ones on the corner of a page, and those usually work.”

The Lieutenant Colonel sighed, slumping in his seat with something like disappointment, “Of course, you live with a pair of prodigy alchemists. It was only a matter of time before you said something about freaky circles.”

Bunny’s tail wagged a little more, at that, “You’ll like it; this is artistry just as much as alchemy.” She took the blank page and carefully lifted it, before pulling it out of her sketchbook. She set it down on the floor, and proceeded to scribble on it with her pen, virtually coloring it in, while leaving one corner bare. In this corner, she doodled a tiny transmutation circle.

“I’ve gotten pretty good at this, but fingers crossed; I haven’t done this for anyone other than Ed and Al.” She briefly drummed the claws of her left paw on the floor, before pressing them to the circle.

There was a tiny spark of blue light, before the scribbles of ink on the paper began shifting and moving around on the page, almost like something alive. The process was slow, and Bunny squinted with concentration, but after about a minute, the black marks settled into an image, and she stopped. She looked it over, before humming thoughtfully, “Come take a look; you’re going to be the best judge of whether or not I got this right.”

Hughes rose from his chair and walked over, kneeling down next to her to inspect the page. His eyes widened, “It’s like a photograph.” He then broke out into an enormous grin, “Look at Gracia and Nina, they’re so beautiful!” He almost sounded like he would burst into tears of joy. Bunny had visualized the ink into a black and white image of the Hughes family, and as far as she could tell, and based on Hughes’ reaction, she’d gotten everyone’s facial features correct. She could not actually draw to make something realistic using her pen the old-fashioned way, but alchemy, beyond the need for understanding base structures, was about visualizing what someone wanted to make. Ed and Al had actively encouraged Bunny to practice her ink-drawing alchemy, because it was actually a perfect training exercise for mental concentration (Though it was actually the best she could do at her skill level; the boys could turn grass into loaves of edible bread if they wanted).

Bunny waved a hand briefly to make Hughes stop gushing, before gently lifting the work at the bottom—where there was a strip of space with nothing in it, plus the transmutation circle in the corner—and folding it, before using her claw to help tear it off at the margin. “Can’t have people taking this array. It _looks_ fancy, but since it’s just moving ink on paper, it’s not too hard for someone with a bit of dedication to learn.” She said, “If someone with less-than-noble intentions gets good at it, there’s a lot of illegal stuff that it could be used for. Falsifying evidence, forging documents…Better safe than sorry.” She mused, before using her pen to scribble over the array until it was no longer discernible. “There we go. Now it can be thrown away without consequence.”

She then took the actual image that remained, and offered it to Hughes, “You can have this, though you can’t actually tell anyone who made it. The good news, you can use the excuse that the artist doesn’t like attention. Artists get away with being weirder than the general public.”

“Roy mentioned during the drive to Command that you were an artist, but seeing it is something else. People would frame stuff like this.” Hughes commented, examining the alchemic drawing more closely. He then wordlessly gestured at her sketchbook, and she shifted it over, allowing him to thumb through the pages, examining each one.

“Hughes, if I could have been an artist as a professional and known I would make a decent living off it, I would have picked that career path in a heartbeat. The art world, though, even if you are in a human body, is not an easy one to survive in. Traveling in person to meet gallery owners, nonrefundable submission fees for exhibitions…all those little things put you at a disadvantage when you’ve hardly got any cenz to spare._” _Bunny yawned at the end, before shaking her head, “Well, I think my brain finally slowed down enough. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep now.”

“Alright, then, back to work for me.”

With that, Hughes handed back the sketchbook and returned to his desk to work on whatever papers he had to deal with. Bunny gathered up her things and went back into the spare bedroom. Alphonse nodded to her quietly as the chimera went back to her blanket set out on the floor, Edward continuing to sleep, dead to the world.

“Does Bear want some?” Nina asked, shoving a half-melted cone of chocolate ice cream right in Bunny’s face. At least, that would be how one would describe the situation, except that Bunny’s head was several feet above the child, and it was more like her standing on tiptoes while passerby watched with concern. As cute as Nina was, chocolate was extremely dangerous for dogs to ingest, and Bunny, as a chimera, had no idea how safe it was for her to consume certain foods. A normal dog, she knew, would probably leap at the chance to eat human food, but Bunny was not a normal dog.

“Ah, Nina, dogs can’t have chocolate.” Alphonse saved Bunny from any further awkwardness as the child lowered the cone back to herself.

“Why, Big-big brother?” She asked.

Gracia smiled, holding her own scoop of vanilla, “Chocolate is poisonous for Bunny, Nina,” She said, “If she ate it, she would be very sick, and we don’t want Bunny to be sick.”

The child looked a little disappointed, “Okay…sorry Bear. I’ll get vanilla next time!” She decided. Spectating at a distance, people sighed with relief. Disaster averted.

By some miracle an ice cream truck had parked near Central Command, and Gracia and Nina had come along with Bunny and Alphonse to wait with them while Edward took the written portion of the State Alchemist exams, at least for part of the day. They started at noon and could last until eight at night, and Al and Bunny fully intended to wait that whole period so Ed would have someone to see him when he got out, even if he ran out of time. Access to frozen treats had done wonders for easing the boredom of the three-year-old girl, who constantly chattered away to the four-legged member of their little group. Being in public, Bunny was unable to verbally covey her thoughts, although Hughes had told Gracia before they even met about the chimera and her situation.

Nina, herself, being too young, was not reliable enough to keep a secret. It would be important to teach her how to not discuss certain topics in public, but because Bunny’s overall safety was at stake, it was better not to give it away yet. Her parents had told Nina that Bunny was very, _very_ smart, and could understand exactly what she was saying, even if she could not respond back. This was true enough that Nina would be respectful towards the chimera, but nothing that would raise suspicion if she repeated it anywhere.

“Alphonse, are you sure you don’t want any?” Gracia asked, looking up at the suit of armor.

Al waved his free hand, the other holding Bunny’s leash (Central had leash laws, unfortunately), “Ah, no, no…Thank you, though, Mrs. Hughes.” He responded nervously.

“Big-big brother doesn’t like ice cream?” Nina gazed up at him, mystified.

“Well…” Al had no idea how to answer that, initially. The answer was definitely _yes_, but he was unable to eat it, and if he said he _did_ like it, it would be weird that he had turned his nose up at it. “I’m just not hungry right now…” He finally answered. Nice save. The chimera winced inwardly, though, at how uncomfortable he was.

“Okay!” Nina chirped.

Unrelated to whether or not Bunny, herself, liked ice cream at all, her relationship with food had grown extremely weird, since she became a chimera. She had been on a hunger strike, initially, when she first started off, the food offered being ground meat dusted with what she suspected was vitamin powders. Once she had escaped and found the Elrics, she mostly consumed dog food formulated for large-breed adults. Dry food was bland, and the taste hardly compared to human food; it was formulated for keeping creatures alive, rather than for enjoyment, no matter how many flavors people gave it.

Bunny’s primary reason for eating a dog’s diet was her own body. She had been given the option plenty of times to consume human meals, but the needs of a human were different from the needs of dogs or bears. The chimera was actually very concerned about ensuring that she did not grow sick from malnutrition, and so she had chosen dog food of her own free will, no matter how unsatisfying it was. This was not to say she refused other things, though. Saving scrambled eggs or slices of bacon for her in the morning would always be a sweet gesture. She had an especially strong weakness for oily fish, like salmon or trout (Probably her bear component, if she was honest with herself).

The reasons for why she ate dog chow made her food choices no less awkward when people aside from Edward and Alphonse watched her eat, _awkward_ being a very misleading term. Hughes and Gracia had done an admirable job keeping it off their faces, but she had _felt_ the shock and sadness emanating off of them in waves. She just hoped that Ed and Al never started doing that, and that the Hugheses would grow used to seeing it. It was bad enough by itself without people adding existential horror into the mix. There was no benefit in dwelling on it.

Gracia checked the watch she had on her wrist, shifting her arm so she did not drop her own ice cream cone as she did so, “Well, it’s fifteen after three. Maes gets off of work at five. Ed might not get out for another few hours, so maybe I’ll see if we can go out for dinner. It’ll save me the trouble of cooking, at least. A break _does_ sound nice.”

“Chicken pot pie!” Nina exclaimed. “I’ll share with Bear!”

Was there even a restaurant that served such things? Perhaps, although it was equally likely that Nina just really liked that particular food.

Bunny wagged her tail at the little exchange. Gracia was generally a homemaker; she maintained all the household affairs in addition to cooking meals. She was excellent at that, and at taking care of Nina, but she was no machine. Even if she normally enjoyed cooking, going out to eat effectively meant she could take the evening off and relax. It meant even more when she had (presumably) two more mouths to feed, _especially _if one of those mouths belonged to Edward Elric. The older brother had a bottomless pit for a stomach. Gracia could sit down and chat with her husband and the boys, and when Nina went to bed—earlier than everyone else—Bunny. There would be no messes to clean up or dishes to wash. Gracia’s statement reminded the chimera of her own mother, a little.

“Hey guys! Did ya miss me?” Edward came rushing down the steps, then, looking like he had far too much energy to burn. A little over three hours. The hardest alchemy exam in the whole entire country of Amestris, and a twelve-year-old kid finishes the test in _three hours._ Either Ed rushed through it, or he had more alchemic knowledge at his young age than others who had been studying it for _decades_, and this was official proof of it. Bunny leaned more towards the latter.

“Little-big Brother!” Nina exclaimed with delight, running over and hugging his right leg, heedless of the dripping ice cream cone she was getting on his trousers.

Ed, given that he could just use alchemy to clean out the ice cream, reached down and ruffled her hair affectionately, gently nudging the hand with the dessert away with his other gloved palm. “Glad to see you too, Nina.” He told her; his words warm.

“Three hours? I’m pretty sure that’s a record.” Gracia commented.

Edward grinned and looked at her, something like victory in his eyes, “The Colonel said it was supposed to be difficult. I’d like to see his face when he finds out how I killed it. That thing was _easy._”

Bunny would have loved to have commented on that, because Edward was in an excellent mood despite having been forced to sit still for three hours straight taking a test, and she had no inhibitions about feeding his ego on this. Being unable to speak in public, she settled for a tiny vocalization and a glance back up at the steps, where all the other people taking the exams were probably still seated and writing.

Ed followed her gaze, his smile becoming a little more feral. “Bunny, I ran _circles_ around those guys.”

The chimera wagged her tail and gave a subtle nod of approval. _Well done_.

“I can run in circles too,” Nina said, before proceeding to do exactly that around Edward. He laughed, at that.

“That was fast, brother.” Al told him

Gracia smiled, “Well, then, that simplifies our plans, Maes will be off work in two hours. I’m thinking we should go somewhere to eat for dinner, today. Anything you boys particularly like?” She asked.

“Anything’s fine with me, but brother doesn’t like milk.” Alphonse responded, while at the same time, Ed blurted out, “Stew!”

Of course. It was always stew. What Bunny found hilarious, though, about the boys’ simultaneous answer, was the fact that Ed’s favorite stews usually contained a cream or milk base in their broth. Al, meanwhile, probably should have said some sort of non-messy solid food as an answer, because that would ultimately be easier for everyone to get out of his armor. Bunny was really concerned about Alphonse getting liquids, because they could leak through the joints, or potentially threaten his blood seal. The blood seal was on the backplate, so apparently it was hard for anything to actually touch it, but the chimera would fret, regardless. At a bare minimum, she did _not_ want to know how hard it would be to get stew out of the armor. Cleaning with a rag was hard when you had paws, already.

Bunny, herself, would probably be stuck at the Hughes’ place by herself, unless the restaurant they went to allowed dogs indoors, or had a patio where she would be permitted while wearing a leash. Unless she had someone with her, she had no desire to wind up like dogs whose owners tied their leashes to posts and left them unattended. In that situation she could do little more than wait around while the public gawked. At least inside the apartment, which was private, she could draw to pass the time until people came back. Really, though, what she would have liked most was to not be separated from the brothers. She did not like being alone in her own thoughts.

Al, of course, caught this, because he rested a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. Bunny needed to remind herself that both brothers had spent the past year learning to communicate in public without words. Accurately guessing Bunny’s thoughts or opinions might have been the initial goal, but nonverbal emotional signals got across, too. This was even when the chimera tried very hard to actually hide any outward signs of distress. Because Al’s small gesture really _was _soothing for her nerves, she leaned her head against his shoulder, and gave a snort of gratitude. While the leaning alone would have done nothing, since he could not physically feel it, the noise, she hoped, would get her point across. Bunny made extra effort to appeal to sight and sound whenever she interacted with Al, to make up for the lack of sensation he felt in his armor.

Edward took a few moments to process the interaction, before his eyes widened slightly with realization and he turned back to Gracia, whom he had just turned down ice cream from, “Actually, is there anywhere that we could go that wouldn’t mind Bunny being there?” He asked.

Gracia frowned thoughtfully, “I hadn’t thought of that. It wouldn’t be right to exclude her, sorry about that.” She offered the chimera a smile, receiving a nod in response, “I think I remember one place that doesn’t mind their customers bringing dogs, so long as they eat in the dining area outside. They don’t serve stew, though. It’s a sandwich place.”

Ed shrugged, “Works for me.” he responded, Alphonse nodding with a slight creak of the armor behind him.

Sandwiches would be a lot easier to get out of the armor, and Ed was fine with them as long as there was no cheese. If a sandwich was made with nicer breads like baguettes, he would consume them without any sort of fuss, though the same did not hold true for the cheaper white bread people usually purchased at the market. For really simple sandwiches made because nothing else was available in the house, he always removed the crust, first. Admittedly, human Bunny had never liked those crusts, either, but she had always considered going out of her way to remove them too much of a hassle. It was debatable if Bunny had been lazy, or if Ed just hated crust _more_, in general. Probably both.

“Well, then, let’s go back home and wait, Bunny will probably want to eat something before we head out. I’ll see if I can talk Maes into taking us.” Gracia smiled in that knowing way that said she had already won. Hughes would probably do anything his wife asked.

“Sandwiches! I like grilled cheese.” Nina said, earning a tail wag from Bunny, laughter from Gracia and Alphonse, and a forced smile that looked more like a grimace from Ed.

“Again! Again!” Nina squealed with delight, before attempting to make a small howling sound, which the chimera was able to copy much better, sounding more like an actual _wolf_ than a domestic dog. Smaller dogs had a higher-pitched sound to their barks or howls, while Bunny’s immense size meant her voice had an extremely deep pitch by comparison. If she were to produce a howl at her loudest volume in an open area, she could probably use it to communicate over a wide distance. She kept her own volume down, however, to make sure that there were no noise complaints plaguing the Hugheses. The tiny, muted howls, however, were sufficient for entertaining the little girl.

Dinner at the sandwich place had been…uneventful. The chatter was kept to light discussions about all the alchemists taking the certification exams tensing when Ed finished his test, or smirking under the assumption he had written gibberish. Hughes complained about paperwork piling up in the office, and Al and Nina went back and forth talking about, oddly enough, cat body language. When the actual food had been prepared and delivered to their table, Ed had proceeded to tear into his sandwich like he had been starving—leading to Al fussing over him having no table manners. In the midst of this, Bunny, with her leash loosely tied to the short iron fence surrounding the little outdoor dining patio, had simply curled up by Ed’s side, leaning against his right leg and the chair where he’d been sitting. She had eaten before everyone went out, and mostly spent the time relaxing, listening to people milling about around her.

Now, it was evening, and things centered around entertaining Nina, who had fixated on Bunny for some reason. She seemed to like dog howls, and in addition to this, would climb onto the chimera’s back if she laid down and held still. Bunny did not try to walk around like a horse with the girl on her back, though, firstly because she was tall enough that a fall _would_ hurt Nina, and secondly, because her back was not built to carry loads. If she was laying down, though, she had no objections to the child crawling over her limbs. Nina thankfully understood even at her young age that it was not acceptable to pull on a dog’s ears, tail, or legs.

Hughes, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity to photograph this chain of events. “Oh, isn’t my little princess just so adorable? She’s adorable, isn’t she? Isn’t she Ed? Al?”

“Of course, Lieutenant Colonel,” Ed sounded a bit perplexed. He had no idea how to respond to this part of Hughes. He was in his ‘doting father mode’ and while nobody wanted to be rude, there was a limit to how much someone would tolerate fishing for compliments. The older brother had enthusiastically agreed an hour ago, but this was about the tenth time since then that everyone had been asked that question.

Bunny responded with a grumble and a toss of her head, making eye contact. It was _obvious_ Ed thought Nina was adorable. It was unheard of for anyone to call Edward small or little and escape without being subject to a flare of his temper. Most of what he thought showed on his face; if Ed liked someone, it was obvious, and the same went for people he disliked.

Nina rolled off Bunny’s back and ran over to Ed, then, “Little-big brother, play with us.” She proceeded to reach up and grab his hand, before freezing. She had grabbed the automail side. “Your hand is cold.” She said.

Al shifted in a way that hinted at nerves, and Ed responded with a smile that looked a little forced, “Sorry about that, Nina.” He told her, crouching down so that he was eye-level. “What would you like to do?”

“Drawing, I’ll draw papa and mama…” She began listing names, “And Big-big brother and you, and Bear too.”

“That sounds wonderful,” He responded, looking at Bunny meaningfully, because she was the artist out of the trio and would perhaps provide some sort of assistance, only to catch her sticking her tongue out at him, briefly. Victory, the chimera’s hobby was superior.

Gracia, sitting on the couch, and Hughes still holding the camera, snickered. Giggles echoed from Al’s armor.

Ed shot his brother a wounded look, before turning back to Nina, “So, what should I draw?”

“Flowers.” The child responded. She then looked at Al, “Al can draw kitties!”

Ed grumbled, at that, “Of course he gets something he’s good at.” He was probably more upset that he had to draw _flowers_, of all things, versus the fact that he was not actually good at it. The problem was, he would do it, for Nina. There was no way he would refuse to draw what Nina asked him to.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Ed, I’m sure you can draw flowers just fine. Alchemy arrays are _way_ more complicated.” Hughes tossed in, unhelpfully.

Gracia stood up, “I’ll go get the crayons.”

“What color should the kitties be, Nina?” Al asked.

“Purple,” She answered, not concerned with any sort of reality.

A few moments later, Gracia came back with a large box filled with assorted crayons, some broken in half from being gripped or pressed onto a page too hard, and some paper, as well, and everyone began working on what they were supposed to draw. When they drew, they all remained on the floor, Ed sitting cross-legged, Al on his knees, and Nina sprawled over Bunny’s front leg on her stomach. The chimera quietly watched.

Nina’s drawings were almost stick figures, with geometric shapes tossed in. Gracia was a triangle, Hughes and Ed were trapezoids wider at the top, and Al was an organic shape to symbolize the armor. Bunny, as it turned out, was a gigantic oval. Nina proceeded to color the humans green, although the little glasses, hair, and clothing suggested who was who. The chimera somehow wound up blue in the image.

Al’s cat was like a simplified cartoon, and he made a pair of cats purple, as requested, with dark blue lines indicating stripes like tabbies. The background, he began coloring orange.

Ed was doing something different with his flowers. Were those little skulls with petals coming out of them? He’d chosen to make the skulls green and the petals to the flowers were a mix of red and purple. The skulls were more like little orbs with faces and stitched mouths, though.

Bunny found watching people draw perhaps just as fascinating as others found her when she did it, herself. She watched, enthralled, for however long, Hughes occasionally taking photos, until Gracia looked at the time.

“Alright, Nina, it’s time for bed!” Her mother declared.

Nina whined in protest, but allowed her father to lift her from where she had been, giving her an affectionate series of kisses on the forehead until she began giggling again. “You can play with your big brothers tomorrow, princess.” Hughes said, less like his usual gushing self, and more serious. He carried her out of the room, Gracia following, perhaps to perform whatever ritual they had regarding tucking her in. A few minutes passed, everyone cleaning up and organizing the mess on the floor, including Bunny, now that the child was no longer present to watch.

…

A bit later, Hughes and Gracia came back out into the room, “Before you three go to bed, we wanted to tell you something.” Hughes said.

“Like what?” Ed asked.

Gracia smiled at them, although it did not quite reach her eyes, “You might want to sit down for this.” She told them. “Nothing’s wrong, but…it might shock you, a bit.”

“…Well I don’t like the looks of this.” Bunny concluded, as Ed and Al made their way over to the sofa, Hughes and Gracia sitting in an adjacent set of chairs.

“What did you want to tell us?” Al asked.

Hughes clasped his hands together, one eye hidden by the lights reflecting, “It relates back to when Roy met you two, and found out you had Bunny living with you.” He said, before looking over at the chimera. “He mentioned an alchemist, Shou Tucker.”

“The Colonel never said any names…but…he mentioned something about somebody transmuting a chimera that could speak.” Al responded, at that.

“The same one?” Ed questioned.

Hughes nodded, “The same one. When he got back from that recruitment trip, he initially told me that he wanted to look into missing person reports for the city where that man lived. On a line outside of military communications, he told me that he’d met a chimera that could speak, and that it claimed it had been transmuted using a live human. He wanted to launch a proper investigation, because this second chimera claimed that Tucker’s actions seemed suspicious. Roy told me that the chimera’s exact words were, ‘perhaps pull some strings and have that person arrested, before they hurt someone else.’”

Bunny’s breath caught in her throat, and Ed reached over and rested a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. Even without knowing the whole story, the brothers could conclude that being transmuted had been traumatic for her. Al, specifically, knew that it had been excruciatingly painful, though it was perfectly possible that he had shared this information with his brother, as well.

“…Go on…” Ed did not even try to smile.

The Lieutenant Colonel continued, “So…I launched an investigation, and we found out that a very important figure was missing, closely related to Tucker, the Sewing-Life Alchemist. His wife. He claimed that she had left to go live with relatives, but when we went around asking, we found out that first, his wife had no living relatives, and no friends or neighbors had seen her. She was missing.”

“…He transmuted his _wife?”_ Al’s voice carried all the horror that could not show on his face.

Hughes nodded, “The chimera could speak because it was his wife.”

Everyone went silent for a bit, digesting what had just been said, before Hughes spoke again, “The story doesn’t end there. We went to arrest Tucker and formally charge him. He was stripped of his State Alchemist title and we tried for a maximum sentence. The judge ruled in our favor, and he’s going to spend the rest of his life behind bars.”

“…Except…” Gracia joined in, pushing Hughes to keep going.

“-Except when we went to make the arrest, we found out that Tucker had a daughter. A little two-year-old girl. While the messy stuff was carried out, I picked her up in my arms, and I carried her away from that house. She was too young to really understand what was happening. Behind me, her dad was being handcuffed and dragged away.”

“…It’s Nina…isn’t it? That little girl.” Al looked up at them.

Gracia cast a smile towards the hallway where she was sleeping in her room, “…We just…fell in love.” She said.

Hughes looked at his wife with adoration, before turning back to the three, “Tucker was deemed unfit to be her guardian, but we couldn’t find any relatives to take her in. She would have been sent to an orphanage, but…neither of us felt right, doing that. We applied for adoption, and it was approved. Nina’s been with us ever since.”

“…Why are you telling us this?” Ed finally asked.

Hughes gave a smile that seemed painful, “I wanted to tell you, because if Roy hadn’t met you three…if Bunny had not been there, that little girl could have wound up just like her mother.” Hughes said, leaning forward in his seat, “…I can’t _imagine_ someone doing that to their wife, or their child, but the fact is, he _did.”_

The boys sat there, trying to process everything they had just heard. Ed’s hand on Bunny’s shoulder was gripping so tight, if he used any more force, she would get a bruise from it. He was desperately trying to ground himself. His other fist, the automail, opened and clenched repeatedly, like he wanted to take out his emotions on something, but there was no target. Al’s hands were shaped like claws in front of him, pressed to the cuisses of his armor. There was a faint rattle as he trembled.

It was one thing to_ suspect_ a person of doing something as awful as transmuting humans into chimeras, but actually hearing it was far worse. The fact that it had been done not to a total stranger, but to a loved one, the _mother_ _of that alchemist’s child_, made it all the more terrible. Hughes was right, though, that if this Tucker person had done something so horrendous to his wife, he could have easily done it again to anyone, including the easiest victim of all, his own daughter.

Bunny took a deep breath, “Well…” Her words came out shaky, “…I believed it…I really did…when Mustang asked me, and he told me what that chimera said…but…hearing it…it’s not any easier…” She choked, then, before finding her words, “…Even with what I’ve been through, I can’t imagine how she felt.”

Her shoulder started throbbing, then, so she reached up with that paw and gripped Ed’s arm until he realized he was hurting her and let go. She held it there around the wrist, just tight enough to be reassuring, but carefully avoiding injuring him with her claws. She could feel him trembling.

“Perhaps it isn’t by blood, but Nina is _our_ daughter now.” Gracia said firmly. “We know that telling you this would be upsetting…but you might have saved our daughter’s life, by speaking with Roy. That man wasn’t a husband, how could he be a father?” The anger in her tone told Bunny just how enraged she was, by the immoral actions of that alchemist. “Nina is the light of our lives, both Maes and myself. We’ve only had her for eight months, but we can’t imagine a world without her.” She reached out and gripped her husband’s hand tightly.

“…How could anyone _do_ that?” Al asked, disgusted.

“…I don’t know, Al.” Ed responded, “I don’t know…”

Everyone sat together in uneasy silence for a bit, before Hughes took a deep breath, and stood up, “Sorry to ruin everyone’s evening,” He said, his expression apologetic. “We just figured having you dwell on it before you took the exams would be a bad idea, so we waited until after.”

The brothers remained silent, but Bunny looked up at him, “You went and got someone dangerous off the streets. You and Mustang. You have no reason to apologize. It wouldn’t have mattered when or where, it would have shocked us, regardless. Ed has a few days before the psychological and practical. You timed this news the best you could.”

Ed shifted his arm and gripped Bunny’s hand with his own, flinching when he poked himself with her claws, although she could tell no blood had been drawn. It had mostly just startled him with a bit of pressure. He took a shaky breath of his own, “Well…I guess we’ll head to bed then…” He looked between Gracia and Hughes, “We…really do appreciate you telling us, it’s just…”

“Hard to think about…” Al completed his brother’s sentence.

“Will you three be alright?” Gracia asked.

“…We’ll be okay,” Ed answered.

With that, the brothers and the chimera rose from their seats and slowly filed out of the living room, heading for bed.

It would probably be a restless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The next day)
> 
> Hughes, talking on the phone: Roy! You're not gonna believe this!
> 
> Mustang: *sigh* What is it now, Maes?
> 
> Hughes: Edward finished his exam in three hours!
> 
> Mustang, who expected Edward to take much longer because the test isn't supposed to be easy: *eye twitches* Is that all?
> 
> Hughes: Well no, have I told you about how adorable Nina is lately?
> 
> Mustang, continuing to be irritated: Yes


	7. Reckless Ambitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward takes the practical for his alchemy exam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, people! I tried to make sure I could get this chapter done in time for today!
> 
> Alright, so, how this chapter went. Edward's alchemist title was gained due to the way he carried out his exam, so for the most part, everything that happens for the test is manga, with a slight difference. The chapter is mostly told from Ed's perspective, and then switches to Bunny for the final part. There is a part that is not shown, when Edward is leaving Command with Mustang after the practical. Please take for granted that Mustang still had a conversation with Edward, very similar to manga.
> 
> I'm a little sad that I can't figure out a way to give Hawkeye more speaking lines. I tried having it originally so that she got to have a conversation with Bunny, but because I somehow wrote myself into a spot that made no sense logically, I had to redo things. She's actually a harder character for me to figure out, because she's generally one for action, more so than words.
> 
> I should mention, after this chapter, things will start picking up, a bit. It was a bit of a struggle for me to figure out how to explain the time periods between sections of the State Alchemist exam, but afterwards, I have lots of plans. For those of you who gritted through these awkward beginning chapters, thank you so much!

“Ed, your leg is still wet. Your arm, too.” Bunny’s voice held a note that told him he was not going to be able to simply ‘leave it’ as he usually wanted to. Ever since getting his automail, either the chimera or Winry had been on his case about maintaining it. Wipe the steel dry or the metal will rust; oil the joints so the movements are smooth and make less noise. Honestly, Ed probably would have been much worse-off if he did not have someone constantly reminding him. Where Winry had fussed back in Resembool, Bunny had taken her place when they left. Edward often wondered if the young mechanic had actually put the chimera up to it.

He had just gotten finished with his shower and put on a clean black sleeveless and boxers, but the chimera was there to greet him when he stepped out of the guest bathroom, accessible from the bedroom where everyone was currently staying. “Right, got it,” He mumbled, taking the towel from around his neck and proceeding to try and pat the various grooves and bolts dry. As long as he immediately listened, Bunny would leave him alone about it. Then he could go and get dressed the rest of the way. He still needed his undercoat, his trousers, his signature red jacket, boots, and gloves. He generally combed his hair out while it was still wet, but he waited until he was dressed to braid it.

Satisfied with his actions, Ed watched from the corner of his eye as the chimera padded over the wooden floors to Al in the corner, where he was polishing his helmet with a rag. Saving time for everyone, Bunny would help his brother get the back of his armor that he could not reach. She handled Al’s backplate and around the pauldrons and gorget, while he got the rest. Although she had mentioned that cleaning was a difficult task due to her best balance being on four legs, Ed thought she was getting increasingly better at standing on just her back two.

Moving from drying his arm to his leg, Ed sat back down on the guest bed where he had been sleeping earlier—already made, courtesy of his brother—and used his other arm to unzip the suitcase that everyone used. Originally they had intended to get a harder one that opened and closed with latches, but because Bunny had difficulty using those without the side falling open and making an extremely loud noise, they had to get a softer, waterproof fabric one instead. He retrieved a clean pair of trousers, his backup pair of white gloves—he had accidentally stained the other with oil—and black socks. The two coats he wore were slung over one of the bedposts.

“Big day today, huh?” Bunny commented, trying to get a stubborn groove in Al’s armor, “Any idea what you’re going to do for the practical?” She asked.

“It should be enough that I don’t need a circle, but I’m guessing since this is one of the biggest tests I should go all-out, right?” Ed asked, having thrown on his clothes and trying to work through touch alone to get his hair braided. He shot her a grin, “I have a few ideas.”

“You better not be planning anything dangerous,” The chimera warned, backing away from Al, “Okay, you’re good to go.”

“Thanks, Bunny,” Al placed his head back on his shoulders and turned to look at him, “The Colonel said he would be here to watch, right?”

Ed’s face fell, “Ugh, don’t remind me. I don’t wanna think of his smug face.” He could not figure out what the guy was thinking, and that drove him up a wall. He hid whatever he was planning behind that smile of his, and it made him want to punch the Colonel as hard as he could, to see if he could change it. Preferably, he would use his metal arm for it. The problem, though, was he _could not_ actually do as he pleased, because Mustang was the one giving him a chance to become a State Alchemist in the first place.

The chimera snorted, then, “Don’t worry, Ed,” A glint appeared in those dark eyes, then, “If he messes with us, I’ll get ‘em for ya.” A hint of a snarl appeared in her tone, but the expression on her face was a smile, if not slightly more feral than normal. She _could_, if he thought about it. He and his brother had learned, early-on, that because Bunny looked like a dog, she could get away with things that would be completely embarrassing in public with nobody passing judgment.

It did actually make Ed feel better, as he finished tying off his braid. The situation was not entirely hopeless. Bunny could be downright evil when she felt like it.

“Well, looks like we’re ready,” He inspected his wrists and legs, before tugging up the glove on his right hand a little more. He did not like others looking at his automail, although some people in the military aside from the Colonel and Lieutenant knew already. During the psychological evaluation, there had been a physical, too. They apparently wanted to check and make sure he was not hiding any signs of self-injury. Ed had a handy cover story, though, for why he had two metal limbs. Resembool had been bombed at some point during the Ishval conflict, and it was easy to say he had gotten caught up in it.

Al rose from where he was sitting, and Ed opened the door, the three exiting out into the hallway. They made their way over into the living room and then the dining room. From here they could see into the kitchen, where Gracia was cooking breakfast. Hughes was nowhere to be seen, although Nina looked up from where her feet were swinging from her chair at the table, before dashing over to hug Al around the leg, “Big brothers! Bear!” She exclaimed, “Morning!”

“Morning, Nina,” Al responded, crouching down to pet her head affectionately, and earning a giggle in response. Ed smiled at her; he could not help it. Nina really was an adorable child. Although the Lieutenant Colonel was weird, with how affectionate he was towards her, to the point of obsessing almost every hour of the day, it was easy to see why. What they had been told four days ago still rattled around in his mind—that blood father was somehow even _more_ rotten than his own old man, and that was saying something—Tucker was lucky that he was in prison for life, because if Ed ever saw his face he was going to _slug_ the guy. Anyone who threatened Nina was going to get their teeth knocked out, Ed would make sure of it (Unless Hughes got there first).

“Morning, boys, Bunny,” Gracia called over her shoulder as she flipped some eggs in a pan with her spatula.

“Hey, Mrs. Hughes,” Ed waved casually, not that she could see it. “Where’s the Lieutenant Colonel?”

“Maes left a just a few minutes ago to pick up Roy and Riza at the station. They took an early train. You can get meals on the cars, but I think the food they serve is a little lacking.” She gestured at where she had cooked extras. Edward had no reference for how good or bad train food was, unfortunately.

The last thing Ed wanted was to spend the whole day around the Colonel, but he suspected that was what was going to happen, since the practicals were not being held until noon. Even then, if he was supposed to watch Ed’s examination, he would have to be physically present when his name got called. Only a dozen or so people were permitted to move on to the practicals, but the small number did not entirely mean that their tests would go quickly. Since alchemists could easily trash a room while practicing (Ed and Al knew firsthand), they would have to repair any damages between examinees to give everyone a fair chance. This could become very time-consuming, and Ed absolutely _loathed_ the idea of having to be around the Colonel while waiting his turn.

He felt a tug on his right hand—Nina had quickly begun to ignore the oddness of his left leg and right arm—and he looked down at her. “Little-big brother, you okay?” She asked, sweet as always. People often warned him that whatever he felt would show on his face. Scowling was almost his default expression, but he rarely did it around Nina. At some point, probably with the mention of the Colonel coming _early_, he had started frowning again. He really needed to learn how to guard his expressions better.

Edward smiled down at her and knelt so he was eye-level, “Nothing’s wrong, Nina. I just don’t like the Colonel much.”

“Why?” She asked, blue gaze wide and innocent.

There were plenty of reasons, none of which would be appropriate for the three-year-old. If he said them aloud, they would be worded in a way that would bring the combined fury of Gracia, Al, and Bunny down on him for using profane language. Ed in the past had never really bothered with censoring himself that much, but now he had multiple people to scold him for it. Swearing less seemed like a small price to pay for maintaining the peace. The Colonel, though, was someone that he would readily call offensive names. The guy’s smirking grated on his nerves.

Ed ruffled Nina’s hair, which had been left loose today, “We just don’t get along,” He replied, before straightening. It was a vague answer, but would have to do.

“Okay…” Nina seemed slightly disappointed, before brightening, and grabbing his hand again, “Sit next to me, big brother,” She proceeded to pull him along to a chair next to the one she had been sitting in. She patted it, “Here, here!” She indicated.

That got a small laugh out of him, “Alright,” He sat down, and she jumped into her own chair, kicking her legs.

“Papa says you’re taking tests!” She scrunched her nose in a way that told him she was trying to think about something she considered complicated, “A prat-cal.” She messed up on the word.

“Practical?” Ed questioned, more like a correction.

“Practical! Papa says you’re taking a practical.” She clarified her sentence, “What’s a practical?”

Al, scooping out a portion of dog food for Bunny’s bowl, spoke up, then, “A practical is when you do something, Nina. Like if you took a test, but it was running instead of answering questions.” He explained in simpler terms. His brother was awesome at stuff like this; he was undeniably a better people-person than Ed was. Bunny probably would be, too, except she was unable to speak when Nina was around, or with the public in general.

Alphonse finished filling Bunny’s food bowl and went to take his own seat, while the chimera began eating her portion, chewing it carefully before swallowing. Within a few moments, she had nudged her meal over to a corner of the room, moving her body so that it blocked people from getting too close. While this actually did not prevent anyone from reaching the bowl if they really needed to get near it, because she would _move_ if they asked, Ed had noticed that the chimera, for whatever reason, guarded her food.

“Well, everything’s ready,” Gracia finished plating eggs for everyone, along with a few slices of bacon, and set them out on the table, including three plates for those who were currently absent. She then walked over and gently nudged Bunny’s shoulder. The chimera jumped in response, but looked back at her, “I’ve got some for you, too, Bunny.” She had a few strips of bacon in her hand. Gracia set it in Bunny’s bowl once she had moved, and then went over to the table so she could eat her own breakfast, sitting across from Nina, and next to Al.

Ed’s own plate was loaded down, even more so than Hughes’ or what he suspected was intended for the Colonel. Al often told him he ate too much, and Bunny, more jokingly, had said she had no idea where he put it all. As far as he could tell, though, most people considered his appetite normal, Al being the only one who got concerned. He was scolded for eating too _fast_, usually, but not the amount. If Ed tried to restrain himself to what his brother called a ‘normal’ portion, he would start to feel hungry again long before the next mealtime. He chalked it up to the fact that he was still growing.

The meal passed quietly, until midway through Bunny abruptly looked up, ears pricked, and darted into the living room, giving a howl of greeting, which was basically her friendlier take on the whole, ‘dogs must bark at intruders’ thing. She generally always knew before people got to the door back in Resembool if someone was approaching the house. Between her and Den, nobody had ever worried about break-ins.

Immediately after Bunny ran into the living room, Nina got out of her chair and followed, “Papa’s home!” She exclaimed.

The doorknob rattled, before Hughes entered into the hallway, unseen from the dining room. “I’m home! And I brought two extras!” He called, before presumably showering his daughter with affection.

Well, there goes his peaceful morning. Ed was going to be stuck looking at the Colonel’s smug face, now. Over breakfast. He sullenly glared up through his bangs as Hughes entered the dining room, followed by Hawkeye and Mustang. “Roy, Riza, you’re just in time for breakfast. I already set out plates for you.” She nodded at the empty chairs, where plates of food sat, slowly cooling and uneaten. Although it was very likely that they could have had breakfast on the train, nobody dared to turn down Gracia’s cooking in front of her doting husband. It helped, though, that her food was genuinely delicious.

“Thank you very much,” the Colonel responded, putting on a charmer’s smile, while everyone began taking their seats, the chimera walking back to lie down on the floor next to Al, having already finished her food. He turned his attention to the three who had been staying as guests for the week, “So, how have you enjoyed staying with Maes and Gracia?” He asked, his eyes scanning everyone, including Bunny.

“It’s been wonderful,” Al said.

“It’s great!” Ed focused his attention on the Lieutenant Colonel for his answer, so that his smile and words would be genuine. He actually _meant_ it, too. Although Hughes was weird with how much he gushed about his wife and daughter, and Bunny could not speak unless Nina was absent, they had enjoyed their stay. Ed did not want his general dislike of the Colonel to sour his words and make it seem like he had not.

Bunny gave a sort of half-bark. “Bunny agrees,” Al elaborated, and Ed just nodded. They could read her far better than anyone else, just through body language alone. This had the interesting effect of making him and Al much better with reading the body language of nonhuman animals, as well. Animals actually _gravitated_ towards Edward and his brother, now, for whatever reason. Ed supposed that, while he never really viewed Bunny as anything other than human, he had begun seeing something like humanity in creatures that were never human in the first place, because of her presence. It could also be because Ed and Al both smelled like the chimera on some level, due to being in constant proximity.

“Good to hear,” Mustang responded, though this was really only a formality, and not the most important thing to anyone involved. His gaze turned to Ed, who did not bother to hide his glare, and he smirked, “So, Edward, the practical is today. Are you ready?”

Edward gave him a smile that showed too many teeth, “Just you wait and see.” He answered.

After much debating, as Ed finally entered into the examination room, he slipped the gloves from his hands and stuck them in his pockets, allowing people to clearly see that his right arm was automail. Bunny would have been proud of the notion that he was not going out of his way to hide it, and the military doctors knew he had artificial limbs, already (though they were forbidden legally from saying he had them to anyone other than the panel of judges, because prosthetics were not self-harm). Why not use it to get people’s attention a little? He would not permit himself to show any shame or act self-conscious in front of the person evaluating him.

The Colonel was standing up on a second-floor balcony alongside several other officers to one side of the room. There were various MP’s at the outskirts of the room, outside the white tile area that was apparently his designated spot for working with alchemy, and tucked between columns supporting the high arched ceiling above them. One stood to either side of Ed, as well. At the front of the room was a massive flag displaying the dragon of Amestris over a sea of green, and there were double doors both behind him and off to one side at the front of the room. Ed imagined that the proctor was supposed to stand in front of the flag.

The door creaked open and a black-haired man with a mustache strode in. His left eye was covered with an eyepatch, and his military uniform had four stars on the shoulders, though Ed had no idea what rank that was. He had a sheathed sword hanging from his left hip, the strap going across his chest. From the way he walked, hands pleasantly folded behind his back, chin tilted up, Ed could tell this person was the proctor. As he walked into the room, he inspected Ed with his one good eye, humming thoughtfully, “A hand made of metal?”

He had spotted Ed’s automail immediately, so he raised it up and grabbed the wrist with his left, curling the steel fingers into a fist, “Happened during the uprising in the Eastern Area,” He said, the lie coming easily. He lowered his hands to hang by his sides again.

“Ah, got burnt in Ishval…” He reached the center of the flag and turned to face Edward fully, “Now, for the examination.”

For some reason he found the careless air of this person irritating. Ed half-pointed at the proctor and looked at one of the MP’s standing next to him, “Who is he?” He whispered, trying to keep his voice quiet.

The MP seemed surprised, and leaned over, cupping a hand around his mouth as if to block the conversation they were obviously having, “Führer King Bradley, the highest ranked military official.” He answered.

Ed could not help the huff that escaped him, at that. He was a little surprised, honestly. The Führer? Coming to watch his practical?

“No need to be anxious, just be calm,” The MP said, his voice kind. He was misinterpreting Edward’s surprise as nerves, though, which only served to annoy him further. What on _earth_ was the Führer doing here? He was standing on ground-level with a total stranger, and it was not like the psychological portion of the test was really all that effective at identifying potentially dangerous alchemists. All you had to do was be good at _lying_, and the panel would let you through. Sure, you still had to pass the written exam and only a dozen or so people actually got to do practicals in the first place, but still, this seemed like a really risky thing for the _leader of Amestris_ to be doing.

The MP’s voice went back to a normal volume, “Did you bring anything to draw a transmutation circle with?”

Ed already knew what he wanted to do for the exam, but this current scenario changed things, a bit. Sorry, Al, Bunny, he was going to do something they would _definitely_ call stupid.

“Nah, I don’t need that sort of thing.” Ed responded, before clapping his hands together, and crouching down to the ground, a ring around him glowing blue indicating that a transmutation had started. The MP’s surrounding him stood back, getting clear of the spot where he was working. Ed visualized a weapon in his mind, and let his hands follow the shaft of a forming spear as it emerged from the ground. This whole time, he never took his eyes off of Bradley. As he kept his focus, he could hear people, including the Colonel, reacting with surprise. Transmuting without a circle was extremely rare, and as far as Ed knew, aside from himself, Teacher was the only one who could do it.

When the transmutation ended, he stood in a shallow divot on the ground, holding the fully formed spear, complete with a design at the hilt. A wolf, jaws open, and stalking down towards the point of the blade. Ed had begun using wolves as a motif more since meeting Bunny, admittedly because the chimera _looked_ like one, sometimes, from a distance. That, and he and his brother were never seen without her, so their presence had become strongly associated with canines. He found that this design, though, had several layers of symbolism to it, and did not want to pass up the opportunity to mess with anyone who would be aware of it. He took a moment to spin the spear and slam the bottom of the shaft on the ground by his side, allowing people to take a brief moment to admire his work.

“Pretty interesting…” Bradley mused.

_Now._

Edward abruptly lifted the spear and charged forward with it, pointing the weapon straight at him. “Sir!” A bunch of officers and MP’s began shouting—the Colonel had gone wide-eyed but still had his arms _folded_—as, with a clang, Ed abruptly stopped, the point of the blade inches from the Führer’s chin, and no less than three guns pointed at his head, although he was sure there were more. They did not dare shoot him, though, because he had quit attacking, yet was still close enough to cause harm if he decided to. His heart was pounding in his chest from the adrenaline.

Ed held the weapon there for a moment, glaring, the tension in the room continuing to build, until Bradley lifted a hand to indicate he was fine. Slowly, reluctantly, the officials began lowering their weapons and putting them away, keeping their eye on Ed the entire time. Edward lowered his spear and shifted it so that it was no longer in a threatening position, “Assassinations could have been done, just like that,” He said, scowling. “Shouldn’t you reconsider this method of examination?”

“Hmm, you’re right, I’ll rethink it,” Bradley mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, seemingly unfazed by Ed’s apparent attempt on his life. Either he was not afraid in the slightest, or he was a master at hiding it.

The officer that had been standing next to the Führer lunged forward at Ed, jabbing a finger in his face, “You disrespectful child! Disqualified! _Disqualified!”_ He practically shrieked in outrage. Ed tensed, leaning back, feeling himself starting to panic.

He clamped his mouth shut to avoid a swear escaping, and subsequently any further thoughts, but he could not help but worry that he had gone too far. He knew fully-well anyone he asked would say _yes_, but the point was to make an impression nobody forgot.

Bradley looked at the raging officer, his face completely placid, “Don’t decide that on your own.” He scolded, and the man backed away, eyes wide with a very real fear of authority, as the Führer continued, “He had no problem with the written exam and psychological test, right? From what I’ve seen, his skill is impressive, and furthermore,” Bradley cast an appraising eye at Ed, “He’s got guts.”

The Führer then turned to walk away, seemingly intent on leaving as carefree as he had entered, before a wide smile came across his features, “He just doesn’t know how big the world is.” He commented. Edward frowned, before he turned to watch as the blade of his spear clanged to the ground, cleanly sliced from the shaft. His eyes widened, and he turned to look back at Bradley, and spotted the sword. It was unsheathed, now, held in his right hand. He waved his free hand in farewell, two officers saluting him as he passed, “Just wait for the announcement of the results!” He called behind him, his voice amused, “What a young alchemist!”

Ed could only stare after him, an expression of shock probably obvious on his features, “When did he pull it out…?” He asked aloud, dumbfounded. He certainly had not seen it. He knew, though, that he was lucky the Führer seemed to have a sense of humor, or that sword could have killed _him_ just as easily as it cut his transmuted weapon.

After a moment of staring, Edward huffed and dropped what remained of his spear, and the sound snapped everyone back to normal. The one MP from before ran up and roughly grabbed him by the shoulder, “What were you _thinking? _You can’t just point weapons at the Führer kid! You could have been shot!” For whatever reason, he chose to focus on the fact that Ed was twelve years old. It was still annoying, but probably better than the way other MP’s were acting.

“Get that brat out of here, he’s a menace!”

“Kick ‘em out!”

_“Hey! Don’t call me a brat!”_ Ed snapped, hands curling into fists, before the MP tugged on his shoulder again to get his attention.

“Listen,” He began, “It’s done, you’re alive, and it looks like your application is getting considered _in spite _of that stunt you pulled. Count your blessings, kid, let’s escort you out of here before someone else gets trigger happy.” The MP was not entirely gentle when he spoke, but he was definitely trying to keep his own temper in check, at least for Ed’s sake. Edward’s normal response would have been to snarl about being called a kid, but…the MP was right.

“Fine, let’s go,” He responded, sullenly.

The officer guided him out of the room, the doors closing shut after them, while the Colonel came down a flight of steps from where he had been watching from the balcony, “We’re heading back,” He said, wearing an expression that looked both untouchable and slightly angry, though it did not carry into his tone.

Bunny and Al, given that they were civilians, wound up staying home with Gracia and Nina while Ed took his practical, versus going with him. Normally they would have waited by the steps at the base of the building, but with Mustang and Hawkeye present, they trusted the two military officials to keep the elder brother company. They did not actually start worrying until they came back, Ed standing behind the two officers, his face wearing that sullen expression that told Bunny something had gone wrong. His eyes carried a spark of wariness or alarm when he looked at the Colonel, though, and something about that deeply bothered Bunny.

Mustang seemed a bit surprised, then, when the chimera started softly growling at him. She had not done so since the train ride a week ago, so perhaps he had thought that was over and done with. Unfortunately, while she did not know exactly _what_, he must have said something to Edward, because the older sibling was on edge. Although she doubted the Colonel had any sort of serious harmful intent, he was probably hard to read for most people, because his emotions barely showed on his face when he chose to adopt that mask of his. Ed was extremely poor at reading people, making matters worse.

“Bear doesn’t like Uncle Roy?” Nina asked, latching onto her leg, which did soothe her ire enough that she stopped growling.

Alphonse lowered himself and petted her hair—something that was becoming a bit of a habit—before responding for the chimera that could not confront the Colonel using words. “She doesn’t hate the Colonel, Nina, but sometimes he does stuff that makes her angry.”

The chimera gave a quiet half-bark, at that, with a jerk of her head that could easily be interpreted as a nod. Her eyes drifted between the three new arrivals, waiting for some sort of explanation.

“Bunny’s angry, so that’s a bad sign.” Al spoke from experience.

Hawkeye’s lips twitched like she wanted to smile, a bit, at that comment.

Mustang gave one of his smirks that must be _meant_ to irritate people, which was incredibly unfair, given Bunny could not verbally express herself in front of Nina. “Well, you see, the Führer himself was interested in Edward’s application. Edward had the brilliant idea to run at him with a spear. I had to give him a stern talking-to.” The chimera doubted that was _all_ that the Colonel had done, given how freaked out Ed was, though it was dissipating a bit now.

Bunny’s annoyance at Mustang was immediately forgotten as she fixed Ed with a withering look, making him tense. She started howling at him, then, which could easily be interpreted as scolding. The _leader of the country _was watching his practical, and he had the gall to make it look as though he was going to assassinate him? He was lucky that however many soldiers were present at the time did not shoot him on the spot. He knew that, though. She was going to give him grief, anyway, she _told_ him not to do anything dangerous.

“Brother, that was stupid, you could have been killed,” Al admonished.

Ed held his hands up in surrender, “I was trying to make an impression, I wasn’t planning on actually doing anything! Look I’m fine, see?”

The chimera snorted before making quieter, growling noises.

“Okay, okay I won’t do something like that again,” He finally gave.

Bunny shot him a look that said she seriously doubted Ed’s statement. At this point, Nina started giggling, then, completely quelling her anger. How could someone be angry with an adorable child laughing like that right in front of them?

Gracia, coming in from the kitchen where she had been doing some prep work for dinner, folded her arms, “I would hope not. Your brother and Bunny both worry sick when they can’t keep an eye on you, from what I gather.”

Mustang laughed at this, leading to Bunny and Edward both glaring daggers at him, though the chimera knew hers had lost all its venom. “The results for the evaluations won’t be announced for another week. Normally, I would suggest coming back to East City to wait for the results, but I don’t know any pet-friendly hotels where you can stay.” He turned his attention to Gracia, adopting a charmer’s smile, “I hate to ask this, Gracia, but would you and Maes be willing to keep them a bit longer? I know it is a bit of a strain to try and find a way to feed guests for so long.”

Gracia laughed slightly, “The boys have been good about providing with funds of their own to offset costs, a bit, and they’ve certainly helped me by playing with Nina. They’ve made excellent babysitters.”

“So is that a yes?” Mustang questioned.

“Not a problem at all, I’m sure Maes would be thrilled to keep them for another week.”

“Big brothers and Bear are staying?” Nina asked, eyes widening, before a huge smile broke out on her features.

“For another week, I guess,” Ed knelt down when he spoke to Nina, and with his answer, she squealed and threw her arms around him in a hug. Used to these surprise embraces by now, he willingly returned it. Ed adored her just as much as the rest of their trio.

“So,” Gracia began, looking between Mustang and Hawkeye, “What are your plans, now that the practical is over?”

“We plan on heading back to East City tomorrow morning. We’ll be staying at a hotel until then.”

“Well, then you can stay for dinner, too.”

Hawkeye, meanwhile, was giving the Colonel a look that said a thousand words. Central probably still had trains leaving for East City, well into the night, and Mustang’s rank probably entailed some sort of work he needed to be doing. There was, though, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. Mustang, meanwhile, had traces of something in his expression that said he had an important reason for lingering.

“Actually,” The Colonel responded, “I had some business here in Central that I wanted to attend to. We will stop by later tonight, if that’s alright with you.”

Gracia seemed to register something, based on Mustang’s statement, but nodded, regardless, “Alright, then. Dinner is at five-thirty usually, Nina goes to bed at eight.” Nina’s bedtime. Bunny had a feeling that whatever reason the Colonel had for stopping by might have less to deal with Edward’s recklessness during the practical, and more do to with her.

She knew that Hughes and Mustang were prying into her life, or at least, they were trying to. The chimera was aware of the curiosity directed her way, and the sometimes-analytical looks. There were good reasons for why the Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel wanted to pry into her past. Was the alchemist who transmuted her still at large, and if so, would he try to abduct another human being and do it again? _Where_ did Bunny come from, exactly? She answered questions to some extent, especially for Edward and Alphonse, but she knew that she had kept quiet about a lot of things.

Bunny did not want to tell them some of the things she had learned, while trapped in that cage. The government, funding illegal research throughout the country, experimenting on its own citizens. These two men had gone out of their way to make sure that Nina’s blood father was arrested and put behind bars where he could never harm anyone else. There was no way they were a part of the thing that had inspired a madman to rob a teenage girl of her humanity.

Mustang and Hughes were looking into something dangerous. Bunny did not want to drag them into it, but it seemed like they intended to force the issue.

She hoped the few hours while everyone was absent would be enough time for her to figure out how she was going to get through what might very well be an interrogation in the near future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed, on the phone because Bunny told him to call: Hey, Winry, we're still going to be staying in Central for another week. Just thought I'd let you know.
> 
> Winry: Well, alright then. Have you been taking care of your automail?
> 
> Ed: Bunny won't leave me alone about it. Don't worry.
> 
> Winry: Well, alright then, I'm glad one of you three is making sure you're oiling it and keeping it dry.
> 
> (Later)
> 
> Winry: Maybe I should drop by in a few days for an unexpected visit...
> 
> A Serial Killer: Oh, I can kill her and the boy!
> 
> Bunny: Bad idea


	8. The Cause of Many Sleepless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunny discusses a dark secret about the military with Mustang, Hawkeye, and Hughes, and a serial killer is loose in Central.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent an insane amount of time writing the first portion of this chapter, probably a full four or five days, so I desperately hope that everything with characterization is right, because I had to get it done, and this does influence the plot a good bit. This chapter has some cute moments in it, but it's actually very, very heavy, overall. 
> 
> I would like to take the time to mention that emotionally, Bunny is a very controlled character. She is heavily affected by things, but suppresses responses and tries to sort through them later. Her emotional control is going to be notable enough that other characters will observe it, and it is fair to say that she has developed it as a survival mechanism. In the story, this manifests as breaking down only in the presence of people she's comfortable with or trusts, if she feels the need. Right now, Edward, Alphonse, Pinako, and Winry are the only characters that she trusts enough to cry in their presence. Hughes is a potential person for the list, but one bad apple spoils the whole barrel (If one person she doesn't trust is there, it doesn't matter if she trusts everyone else). Given the subject matter, Bunny is greatly distressed by her 'interview', but because of how she handles it, she avoids talking about the things that distress her the most, so the worst we get is a minor meltdown. Depending on how things go, Bunny will grow to trust other characters in time, being comfortable enough in their presence to cry or otherwise react if she needs to.
> 
> When Bunny does finally talk about more details relating to what actually happened to her, it will be very bad, but it's too soon in the story. For those who are concerned about Hughes, you can argue this is the part where people start to realize, way early, that the government may be corrupt, without any paper trails suggesting they've looked into it. This will greatly affect the plot, because characters will already have reason to be suspicious of things. You also find out, this chapter, somewhat, information about Bunny's original kidnapper. Admittedly, some of it (A great deal) is plot convenience, but I tried to make it as realistic as possible, in spite of that. This story is very serious, but it's not meant to be so serious that the characters live in a constant state of paranoia (yet, since that's canon at some point for all versions of FMA).
> 
> The opening scene aside, lines for stuff that happens in anime or manga are largely borrowed from the 2003 Anime, which is the only incidence in which we meet Barry the Chopper in his human form, although there are some differences. Edward is not a State Alchemist, yet, but because Barry does meat deliveries as a butcher to Central Command, he was still around to find out about Ed's transmutation skills, which are basically the talk of the base, at the moment, because it's so unique and it was crazy, what he did for his practical. Edward is a character who generally manifests his emotional pain as rage, but his human transmutation accident aside, he has never been forced to deal with the darker side of human nature, before, at this point. Barry, in the 2003 anime, is one of the few characters to bring him to tears. Please remember this, and that Ed is twelve, here.
> 
> For those who see the warning for graphic depictions of violence, that heavily applies, here. Bunny is highly protective of Edward, Alphonse, and Winry, and she has dog breeds in her makeup capable of taking down creatures far more dangerous than humans, and she is also part bear. A human, realistically, does not stand a fighting chance against her, especially when human intelligence is guiding her actions. This chapter exemplifies that. Bunny's fighting 'style' is inspired by police dogs used to detain criminals, and bears, in general. Please be aware that Bunny is always in full control of her actions, too. I'm not too fond of the trope where characters with animal traits lose control of themselves. Bunny might have animal instincts, but that's not the same as a split personality.
> 
> Final part for this long note. The next chapter will likely involve, on some level, the aftermath of this one. This chapter, itself, has already greatly exceeded my word-count that I use as a standard.

“Welcome back,” Bunny greeted Mustang and Hawkeye as they entered the living room, from where she sat back on her haunches across from the sofa. It was fifteen after eight, Nina and Gracia already having turned in for the night. Moonlight streamed in from the window, bathing half of the room in an eerie blue glow, while the rest was illuminated with the honey-gold of a single lamp by the sofa, switched on to see by. The chimera’s eyes gleamed white from the perspective of the new arrivals, looking less like a large domestic dog, and more like an enormous wolf. Everything that was easy to ignore in daylight became more prominent in the shadows.

Mustang hated that for a moment, he felt a hint of anxiety. The rational part of his mind said that Bunny’s behaviors were always stemming from protective feelings towards the Elrics. He did not think she had growled, even once, for herself, and he doubted she would snap and hurt someone without warning. The primitive, animal part of his brain, though, saw her features, and whispered _threat_ in the back of his mind. Did Edward and Alphonse feel this way whenever they saw her teeth and claws? A large part of him thought they must see her in a drastically different way from anyone else. They probably felt comfort_,_ rather than revulsion or fear.

He was ashamed of his own reactions, no matter how brief they were, given why he was here. Maes had been unable to persuade the chimera to talk on her own about her transmutation or the kidnapping. In fact, she was tight-lipped about anything that was important. She would tell stories about people or things she had seen, but never gave enough detail for a location or individual to be traced. Mustang and Hawkeye were joining in on the questioning, in hopes that perceived authority would speed up their investigation.

“Where are the brothers?” Mustang asked, trying to keep his tone polite, in spite of the curiosity burning in the back of his mind, and his general eagerness to find answers.

“Waiting in the spare room. We should probably talk before they decide to eavesdrop_.” _Bunny responded, and the Colonel had to remind himself that the chimera was a _teenager_. There was nothing childish in the way she spoke. The two boys still seemed like twelve or eleven-year-olds. Bunny, meanwhile, acted mostly like an adult. When she shifted and the light stopped reflecting out of her eyes, there was a challenge that _dared_ Mustang to hold back because of her age. Her expression was one of experience, rather than innocence.

They were eyes that were too old for the person they belonged to.

Mustang threaded his fingers together, propping his elbows on his legs, “Maes probably already explained why we’re here. I understand that this might be very hard for you, but we want you to tell us about the alchemist who transmuted you. Given enough evidence, we can charge him with your abduction and have him arrested without risking your identity.”

Bunny was silent, for a long moment, before turning her gaze out of the window. “I thought it over, long and hard, what I was going to say, when I figured out why you were going to come here.” She looked back at him, “You _can’t_ go looking.”

Mustang felt a jolt of surprise, though he kept it off of his face. He had not been expecting that answer. He would have thought the chimera would leap at the chance to have her tormentor arrested. She was going to spend the rest of her life hiding her intelligence in public, and pretending to be a dog. That surely had to be humiliating, and horrible for anyone who had once possessed the freedom of a normal human being. “Why not?” He asked, genuinely wondering.

Bunny swallowed, perhaps because her mouth had gone dry, “…There are these…_bad _people… and they’ve got their secrets and…they’ll _kill _you to keep them. The guy who transmuted me…He wasn’t _directly _affiliated. He was poking around and that’s how he found out about them…I don’t think they even know I exist…but…if they realize someone’s been investigating, somebody will get hurt.” She clenched her jaw, a glint of teeth visible, “If you _really_ want answers, I can give them to you, but…you _have_ to listen to me. I never told anyone about this, because it’s dangerous even knowing.”

Mustang refrained from frowning, and straightened, at this. “We have experience dealing with information that we don’t want people knowing we have.” He responded, “We hid you, and we can easily handle whatever organization or group you’re talking about. If you don’t tell us, we’ll wind up looking into it without knowing.” He decided being honest would be best, here. Maes, especially, would want to investigate if he did not have enough answers.

Hawkeye offered a small smile, “We’ll listen, Bunny.”

The chimera huffed out a laugh, bitter and humorless, “It’s the _military._” She said, almost sardonically. She wore a smile that looked more painful, than anything else.

Maes immediately tensed, “What?”

Mustang could not help that his eyes widened, and Hawkeye’s hands became fists.

“I’m not the first human chimera that was created. Some serial killers start off torturing animals, before they move on to people. For the tiny handful of chimeras that can function, you have plenty that can’t do anything other than scream and wail in agony.” She spoke quickly, as if the words would get caught in her throat if she stopped or hesitated. “Then, you have alchemists who become addicted to the power they have, and forsake their morals. They stop seeing animals as living creatures deserving of basic respect, and they stop seeing humans as people. Everything is just…an _alchemical ingredient_ to play with.” A wavering note entered her voice, at that, “The military…they’ve been _funding_ human chimera research, all throughout the country, in secret, hidden laboratories. I didn’t come from there, I only learned about it because my…_kidnapper_…was too loose-lipped, but…” She drew air through her teeth in a hiss, “It’s…it’s really bad.”

Maes was grimacing, “That’s more information about the government’s research than I think I wanted to know.” his folded hands clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white, “How deep…? Does the Führer know about this?” He thought aloud, more to himself.

Mustang’s eyes narrowed, “Before we even start worrying over conspiracies, how do we know this isn’t just some crazy person’s rambling?” He asked. “This is an enormous problem if it’s real, and you’re claiming you were told all of this by a person who abducted you. It could have been a scare tactic to keep you from fleeing.”

The chimera rose onto all four legs, “Crazy people sometimes tell the truth, Mustang. State Alchemists are rare, and…_two_ at most get accepted each year. The military is always demanding more supplies and more weapons for _this_ uprising, or _that_ border conflict…It’s not too far-fetched that contractors can be alchemists, including people who make chimeras.” Her ears lowered, “…I was thoroughly convinced when you showed up at our house that you were there for _me_, not the boys, until you seemed to think I was just the family dog…Then a whole year went by and I realized he must have written me off as dead.”

Bunny was more intuition-guided than most people, if Mustang were to judge her personality. She seemed to base a lot of her behavior on something like instinct, and he recognized that it was her gut feeling, telling her to give him the information she was providing, right now. In spite of this, there was nothing purely impulsive about her actions. There was an enormous amount of thought and logic that went into everything she said.

In spite of how well-spoken the chimera was, though, he could pick out signs of stress and anxiety in her posture, and it was showing in her voice. She was far from unaffected by this conversation, and was trying very hard to avoid breaking down or appearing too vulnerable. The amount of _control_ she had over her emotional response was perhaps the most remarkable thing he had seen. A decent number of _soldiers_ could not handle things as effectively as this chimera, who was only sixteen years old.

It was actually heartbreaking, because that kind of control meant she had been forced to do it, far too often.

Maes shifted slightly, “Her story checks out, Roy. I know that our best facilities and research materials are limited to State Alchemists, but the government contracts work for plenty of things. Weapons producers include private labs or individuals that have higher success rates with making chimeras.” His brows furrowed, a glint appearing in his glasses, “…but that makes it harder to track.”

The chimera’s snout wrinkled, “_Stay out of it._ I told you so you wouldn’t have to go looking for answers, as you said you might. It’s dangerous. I handled that guy, and the act of trying to dig around for papers relating to those secret labs is going to get him killed if he keeps doing it…I don’t know _how_ he found out in the first place…He transmuted me just as much in hopes of finding a quick way to keep himself alive, as he did because he wanted to be a part of the whole mess.” Her expression grew darker, “I would hope that _one_ disaster would be enough to make him reconsider any future plans of abducting or experimenting on humans.” The words came out harsh.

Mustang tilted his head, staring for a moment, and processing that statement, “...You fought back.” He concluded.

Bunny’s gaze drifted to the hallway, and he noted how her posture seemed to close off, almost, “I could have killed him.” She said, not elaborating on that statement. Her eyes slid back to the Colonel, “I think I’ve said enough, so I’m going to bed. Good night, everyone.”

She began walking away, starting to round the corner, perhaps determined to get away from the officers before she had a meltdown, before Hawkeye spoke, “Bunny, will you be alright?” She asked, her voice gentle.

The chimera looked over her shoulder back at her, visibly thinking, before responding, “I’ll probably cry, but I’ll be fine.” She then turned and disappeared down the hall.

Everyone was silent for a long duration, waiting for the chimera to reach the spare room and go inside, before speaking again.

“Something this big…we’ve just found out a secret that would have people rioting in the streets, if they knew about it.” Maes allowed his nerves to show completely, now. “I can try to look into it, but something like this…it has to be all the way at the top. I don’t want to believe it, but…my daughter’s biological father turned his wife into a chimera, and the chimera that _warned_ us about it, she’s saying now that there’s been illegal experimentation in the military, this whole time.”

Mustang turned to Maes, “So we don’t investigate the labs, or the alchemist. All the more reason to become Führer, and change how this country is run. Just another consequence of war-mongering.” He folded his arms, “I still want to look into missing person reports. She’s not telling us anything about who she was or where she came from, and that by itself probably won’t raise the suspicion we’re concerned about.”

Maes gave a resigned sigh, “Roy, if Ed becomes a State Alchemist, they’ll place him under you as a subordinate, because you recommended him. I think we all know that Bunny will go wherever those brothers are. That means she can’t avoid you, and if someone who doesn’t know her secret is around, she can’t even speak on her own behalf.” His eyes became hidden behind the glare of a reflection, “You better treat her fairly.”

Hawkeye said nothing, but her expression told him she was in full agreement with Maes. She was far better at dealing with the kids than Mustang was, if he was honest.

Mustang had no idea how to deal with children, not really. He had figured out how to handle Edward, and he doubted Alphonse, as agreeable as he seemed to be, would be a major problem. Bunny was a bit of a challenge, because while the brothers had seemingly already formed opinions about the Colonel, it looked like the chimera was still trying to decide what she thought of him. She was perceptive of others, and could seemingly sense whatever people were feeling, regardless of what their faces suggested.

That was the scary part. Even as he was learning to read the chimera, she was learning to read him back at the same speed, if not faster. He had a creeping suspicion she had been seeing through him from the very beginning.

Edward and Alphonse were busy sweeping and tidying the spare bedroom, when Bunny came back in, and promptly collapsed down onto the blanket where she usually slept, looking so _exhausted_ that Ed found himself concerned. The brothers both knew that Mustang and Hughes must have singled Bunny out, looking for answers about her kidnapping, since the alchemist who had turned her into a chimera had never been caught. They were absolutely positive that was the problem, because there was nothing else that would require them to separate her from Ed and his younger sibling.

“You look like you got hit by a train,” Ed commented, as he swept a mix of silver and gold hairs into a dustpan. Although it was a given that Bunny shed, just like a dog would, humans could shed a fair amount, too. While most of the hair came from the chimera, a few strands were definitely his own.

“…Metaphorically, yes…” Bunny responded, before her head softly thudded against the field of red and blue skulls, paw-like hands going up to cover her eyes. Her voice had a wavering quality to it that made both brothers pause in their work, exchanging glances.

“Bunny,” Al began, lowering the rag from where he had been cleaning the window, “Are you crying?”

In response, the chimera merely shrank into herself further.

“That _idiot_ Colonel…” Ed refrained from swearing, but the word had enough emphasis and venom to sound identical to a curse. He’d picked that up from Bunny, if he was honest with himself. Sometimes, _how_ you said something had more impact than the actual words themselves. He set the broom down and walked over to the chimera, kneeling down next to her, “I’m gonna punch that guy in the face, if he makes you cry again.” He told her.

_“Brother,”_ Al scolded, although the tone was weaker than usual. Ed knew he could not actually attack Mustang in any form or fashion, but saying it aloud made him feel better. Judging by the single wag of Bunny’s tail, she appreciated the sentiment.

“He didn’t do anything wrong…I was the one who brought things up…they’re not bad people…” Bunny slowly pulled her hands from her face, ears low, and breathing in that erratic way that people did when they were weeping. Her eyes would never produce tears. “I just…really, really hate talking about stuff…and…”

Ed rested a hand on her back, “Hey, I got a metal arm and leg, I get it.” And he _did._ It was easy to talk about the things you could not avoid, because it was a part of everyday life. He constantly had to think about the fact that he had automail, because he had to keep it dry after baths, and it would ache whenever the weather changed. He spent a lot of time just trying to hide it from people. They had to polish and clean Al’s armor. These were just parts of everyday life, but nobody ever wanted to discuss _that_ day, when they had wound up in this state. Ed hardly blamed Bunny for being upset over memories about what happened to her.

The chimera huffed, her breathing evening out a little more, from what he could feel through her shoulder, “We’re going to have to learn to deal with these people, aren’t we…?” She asked.

Ed frowned, “What do you mean by that?” He asked, as Al came over and knelt down alongside him.

“When you get that license…Gracia mentioned while you were gone that they’ll make you Mustang’s subordinate…because he recommended you.” She told him, and he felt a bitter resentment burn in his heart. The same Colonel who had made Bunny cry and had _threatened_ them when they were not around was going to be his commanding officer?

“The Lieutenant isn’t so bad,” Al offered.

That was true. She was a voice of reason, Ed thought. She even sided with him (Or if he was more realistic, sided with common sense) when he had mentioned the Colonel’s refusal to do anything to make himself look like he was protecting Bradley during Ed’s practical. Even so, the thought of prolonged interactions with the Colonel soured his mood a bit, “Great, my commanding officer is a massive _jerk_.”

“Yeah, he is…” Bunny responded, the sobs starting to subside, “…I have a feeling he’s going to just keep prying into our lives…”

“Nosy, _and_ a massive jerk.” Ed amended his previous statement.

That earned him a brief tail wag, so he kept going, “He’s a glory hound, too, and _smug_, and he holds stuff over your head.” Bunny’s tail swished from side to side, in that way that told him he had gotten a good laugh out of her. The chimera was too nice to go out of her way to truly insult people, so he would do it for her.

That even got a giggle out of Al, “You’re terrible.” He said, and that made Ed chuckle, himself.

“Hey, I’m just being honest.”

Bunny shifted so she was curled around Edward, before speaking, “We’ll find a way to get him back, right?” She asked, weakly.

“Yeah, he better be ready.” Ed responded, a feral, toothy grin spreading across his features.

_…Four days later…_

“I’m so glad you like dogs, Bunny really hates having to stay outside,” Al commented, having a pleasant conversation with the owner of an art supply store that he and Bunny had gone to, while Hughes had effectively dragged Edward with him to his office that day, intent on introducing the older Elric to members of his team in Investigations.

The woman, around her mid-fifties, had a touch of grey to curling blonde hair, and pale green eyes, with half-moon spectacles resting on her nose. She wore a plain t-shirt with denim overalls, and a white apron that was covered in every sort of artistic media one could think of, from paints to pastels. She smiled at the younger brother, “Well, I used to bring my dog Sadie in here. She’d come up and greet the customers, go ‘okay, you’re fine’, and come and sit on the chair I keep in the back.” She sighed, “I miss her. Passed away two years ago, but now I let people bring their dogs, so it’s not so bad, as long as they’re behaved and don’t mark anything.”

She shifted and looked past Al, “Though, Bunny barely fits in the aisle.” Her voice took on a sweeter, higher pitch like what was normally used to talk to dogs, “Can you move around fine, Bunny, sweetie?”

The chimera turned and wagged her tail at the lady, before giving a tiny howl, having to lift her head awkwardly to avoid hitting against a rack filled with a wide selection of graphite pencils. She had figured out that it was easy to avoid stuff if her head was the part of her at risk of knocking into things. Her tail-end, not being constantly watched, was the bigger threat. As long as she kept herself parallel with the shelves, though, she was fine, granted people could not get past her in the store, if they needed to. It was a good thing that Al and her were the only visitors, at the moment.

The shop owner laughed when Bunny accidentally poked her nose on a shelf corner and sneezed. “Bless you,” She called, before turning her attention back to Alphonse, “So, is there anything specific you’re looking for?” She asked.

Al glanced down at the note he was holding in his free hand that was not gripping Bunny’s leash, “We’re looking for compressed charcoal? We need a lot of it for a project, but it needs to be dense and can’t crumble easy.” He told her. The note, though the lady did not know it, was actually in the chimera’s own, elegant scrawl.

The woman thought for a moment, before her face lit up. She stepped past a column and into the actual shopfront, leaving the register unattended—which was not really a big issue when the store was so tiny, with only three total aisles. “Wait there,” She said, before going through one aisle and appearing on the other side of Bunny. The chimera felt a little bad that she had to force someone to take an alternate route, versus rushing past her, but knocking into shelves would end badly. The lady snatched up a box with what looked like a Xingese dragon-horse on it, “This brand is particularly good, and these packs contain five sticks of the same kind of charcoal. I don’t know if they’re the absolute densest out there, but I’ve never had a problem with them.” She explained. “Is this enough?” She asked.

She proceeded to hand it to Al past Bunny, because the space was still wide enough to permit an arm through, patting Bunny’s flank with her free hand—the chimera had learned to not react to being touched there, finally, but it still bothered her. It was the equivalent of being touched on the small of her back or rear, decidedly personal spots by human standards. She licked her lips, a sign of anxiety, in dogs. There was no malicious intent in the touch.

Al inspected the package, before glancing at Bunny, tilting his armored head slightly in a question, and angling the box so the chimera could read it. Bunny gave a barely perceptible nod; she recognized the brand as Xiao Shu. It was a quality company that had been started by Xingese immigrants about fifty years ago, and had grown to be one of the biggest art suppliers trusted by Amestrian artists since. “This should be enough,” He responded, as the woman went back around the next-over aisle to return to the counter.

It might have been the most unusual place she had been in, since becoming a chimera, but this little art supply store had the same effect on Bunny as a bookstore would on the boys. It was a place where she was familiar with a majority of the items on display, and art supply stores generally all had a paper smell to them, not quite like a library, because the scent was mixed with paints, graphite, and ink. She could identify an art supply store just by its smell. Her sharp claws clicked harmlessly on concrete floors that had been stained a warm terracotta color, and gone over with some sort of glaze. The metal racks painted white and used as shelves were familiar, too, not unlike the black ones at the hardware store back in Resembool.

Bunny sorely missed both the art supply store she had visited so often years ago, and the rolling green pastures of the small agricultural town. She had been living in cities and larger towns her entire life, and she had never expected to take to vast, open spaces as easily as she had. She missed, too, wooden docks that nobody with common sense walked on barefoot, the faint smell of fish blood that she oddly found comforting, and the interaction of dockside birds trying to snatch minnows used for bait.

If she was honest, though, she had a love-hate relationship with the birds, colored by nostalgia. Having a tern snatch little fish right out of your hand was actually _terrifying_, given those beaks were sharper than people gave them credit for. The big herons were actually much nicer, quietly standing around and staring, begging to be thrown the fish, at least until you turned your back and were no longer watching. They would then proceed to gobble your entire bucket of bait while you were not looking. Locals knew to never underestimate the wildlife of the river and neighboring marshes.

Alphonse finished paying for the charcoal, bade the shop owner farewell, and they left the store, intent on transmuting a cap onto Bunny’s claw so she could write anywhere, and draw transmutation circles at a larger size. The chimera, too, had in the past few days come up with a form of alchemy she wanted to research—something that had pleased the boys immensely—except she did not have the alchemy know-how, yet. When Bunny performed transmutations at faster speeds, she left marks just like anyone else, but when she took her time and concentrated, her creations were flawless (Perfection cannot be rushed, she had told the boys, once, when they had fussed about how slow she was). The chimera had easily settled on medical alchemy as a focus, due to this. Combat alchemy seemed redundant when your natural running speeds and strengths were greater than a normal human. She omitted the fact that she still had dreams about Edward bleeding out by a transmutation circle. Bunny’s alchemy would probably never be flashy, but it would be _useful_, and she would still practice making materials related to artwork.

“That was a nice shop owner,” Al commented, once they had walked down the street a bit.

Bunny gave a slight nod that nobody else would catch.

“So, I think if you’re going to learn medical alchemy, you need to learn how to seal cuts, first.” He told her.

Bunny looked up at him with a slight head tilt, before glancing down the street meaningfully, in the direction of Central Command. The dim red glow within the eyes of the armor changed slightly when the younger brother inclined his own head. Alphonse had probably figured it out, that Bunny had wanted to do more than just motivate him to make a tourniquet, that night. She would not be surprised if he possessed an interest in medical alchemy for the same exact reason. There was also the simple fact that Ed got into trouble and worried the two of them sick on a regular basis.

She then tilted her head more visibly and made a very faint whine that increased in pitch, like a question, with a slight wag of her tail. She wondered if Hughes had released Edward from his impromptu ‘take your houseguest to work’ situation.

“Yeah, I wonder, too. Brother looked like he would have been happier with someone trying to force him to drink milk.”

Bunny wagged her tail, hard, at that one. Edward’s greatest weakness was perhaps not his immense temper or sensitivity to his height, but his general lack of social aptitude. He was miserable at reading the undertones of a conversation or facial expressions. The memory of Hughes effectively dragging a reluctant Ed by his collar with him that morning was still hilarious. Trying to interact with complete strangers, namely introductions, was akin to torture.

Even so, the younger sibling and chimera were dirty traitors, because they continued to laugh at Ed’s expense, even now. Bunny angled her snout to point down the road a bit, snorting softly.

“Yeah, let’s go see if he’s escaped.” Al agreed, laughing a little.

The two proceeded through the city, enduring curious stares by passerby, but taking comfort in knowing they were not alone, in this. After a bit of walking, they arrived back at the base of what Bunny considered to be the _unnecessarily tall _staircase leading into command. She was sure that elderly officers were winded not even a third of the way up, unless they had been there their entire lives. The thing was mountainous, and the only reason that the chimera was able to figure out for _why, _was that it needed to be the highest point in the city (perhaps the country, even).

When they were there, a familiar scent drifted into Bunny’s nose, that made her stiffen.

She smelled Winry.

A whine escaped the chimera, then, and she began pacing at the end of her leash, forcing Al to tighten his grip on it, or he would lose it. “Bunny, what is it?” He asked.

Something felt wrong. Something felt _very wrong_. She should be happy, because the girl was _here_ in Central, but something was putting her on edge, as she lowered her head and began sniffing, not even bothering to respond to Al’s increasingly concerned questioning, and almost tugging him on the leash behind her, coughing when it yanked too tight around her collar, but too determined to figure out what was wrong and where Winry actually was.

“Al, Bunny!” The chimera heard Hughes approach, and looked up, but her tail was quivering, ears pricked forward in that alarming way that hinted at aggression.

“Lieutenant Colonel,” Al told him, “Where’s Ed? We came to get him.”

“That’s the thing,” Hughes responded, frowning, “Someone came into the mess hall during lunch and mentioned he had a visitor, so he went out to meet them, but they didn’t come back. Now I can’t find him or the person who came to see him. I’m getting a little worried. I called Gracia to see if they had gone back home, but they weren’t there, either. I was sure he would have been with you…but…he’s not.”

Bunny gave an odd whine-growl, then, yanking Al by the leash once more. “Hey!” Al exclaimed, more out of surprise than outrage, as she began sniffing a spot where the smooth brick roads were slightly damp. Raw meat, a refrigerated smell, Winry…and Ed. The smells alone were not dangerous, but two people were missing, and the chimera had a nose that would allow her to follow them without fail. Something felt wrong and Hughes was only confirming it.

That’s when she recognized the final smell, the one that had been nagging at the back of her mind, triggering some sense of danger.

Blood. _Human_.

Her hackles rose immediately and she lunged forward, rearing up on her hind paws a bit as she started howling in that frightening, baying way that a dog that had caught a scent would. Her massive size made it echo through the street, immediately attracting stares from everyone in the vicinity, the humans falling silent. In the distance, dogs throughout the city began howling, too, creating a strange, wailing hum. “Okay…” Al’s voice took on an alarmed, wavering note, “T-that’s a new sound…”

Hughes looked at the howling chimera for a moment, taking in bared teeth, raised hackles, and a sense of _urgency_, before speaking, “Al,” He spoke slowly, “take the leash off her collar.” He told him.

There was a metallic creak as Al swiveled his head to look at the Lieutenant Colonel, “-But the leash laws-”

“I’ll take responsibility. Just do it.”

Trembling gauntlets clicked the leash off a collar that was being pulled with immense strength.

Bunny tore down the street, rounding a corner, and was gone.

The sound of a grinding whetstone was what woke him up. Edward jolted up with a gasp and struggled, finding himself unable to move, metal chains digging into his arm, bound into a wooden chair. The air reeked of blood and innards, horribly familiar, and it was cold enough for him to see his breath. The gutted carcasses of pigs hung from chains by their ankles, and in front of him was the brunette woman that he had seen earlier—the one who had struck him with a club to knock him out. She was sharpening a cleaver at a worktable, her back turned. This was the same butcher’s shop from earlier, red brick walls and beige concrete tiles, tinged red in places.

The woman paused in her work and inspected the blade, running her thumb lightly along the cleaver’s edge, “Good morning, junior.” She said, not turning to look at him. Her voice was all too calm.

Ed felt a spark of rage through his fear, “Why, you-” a pained gasp cut him off. His entire right side was throbbing_._ When he finally managed to force his muscles to unclench, he ventured a look at his automail, his jacket having been removed, at some point. He found himself gasping in stunned surprise. It was _gone_. The port was there, but the arm was completely missing, disconnected.

“I heard that you can transmute without using circles,” The woman said, except her voice sounded different,_ deeper_. She turned in his direction slightly, face shadowed by the yellow light of a lamp hanging overhead, and there was a set of metallic clinks as her free hand snatched something—his _arm_—from where it had been resting on the table, “Just to be safe,” she said, almost teasingly, before laughing to herself.

Ed forced himself to breathe past a growing sense of dead as the woman turned to look at him fully, the laughing increasing in volume, “Let me introduce myself,” She said, setting down her cleaver, before reaching up and grabbing her hair—a _wig­_—and pulling from her head, revealing a face that was all angles, with short blonde hair and a pair of eyes that were void of warmth. “I’m the shop’s owner, Barry.”

“A man…?” Ed clenched his jaw, feeling adrenaline going through his limbs, now. This was bad. This was really, really bad. Bunny had once told him that you had to be careful in a city. ‘_There’s some really sick people out there,’_ she had said, no doubt speaking from personal experience. He had somehow gotten into a conversation with Hughes about vehicles being used to cover up the movements of a serial killer that had mostly been targeting women and girls throughout the city, while eating lunch. He had gone out to meet a guest that someone had come into the mess hall mentioning, claiming they were looking for Edward and Alphonse Elric, and had found a screw like what he would have on his automail in the middle of the street.

Ed had seen a water trail from a refrigerated truck and followed it, because Winry—who must have been the guest—had obviously been missing, and he still thought that, even with a bunch of checkpoints set up to inspect vehicles due to the serial killer’s whereabouts, someone might have taken her, and now he was _here._ He had not even mentioned to anyone where he was going, and he was regretting it, now. Nobody would even realize what was happening, would they? Was this how _Bunny_ had felt, when she had been kidnapped?

“As a reward for making it this far,” Barry began, “Let me show you something you’ll like.” He reached out an arm and shoved one of the carcasses to his right, causing chains to clatter as it slid along a metal track and crashed into the wall beside Ed. Ed’s focus, however, was focused on the person who had stumbled into view.

Winry, eyes wide with fear, tied to the same track as the pig carcasses, with chains around her wrists, and a gag over her face. Barry caught her by the shoulder before she could go too far, pulling her back, and Ed could hear muffled cries of terror through the fabric. “Winry!” He called, concerned and horrified, trying to keep a brave front to the best of his ability, although the tremble in his voice betrayed him.

Barry leaned in close to Winry, who looked at him and flinched back, but was otherwise unable to escape, “I am going to skillfully dissect this little girl,” He said, not an ounce of empathy in his voice or expression. She closed her eyes and whimpered. She had no idea what was about to happen, but the lunatic had a _cleaver_ on the table and he looked fully capable of using it on another human being, from what Ed could tell. “Be sure to watch closely. You’re a State Alchemist candidate, after all…”

“Stop! Why are you doing this!?” Behind his back, Edward clenched his hand tightly around the screw he had managed to dig out of his pocket, his fist trembling. He tried to use his fingers to feel the chains as he pressed the bit of metal against one of the links within reach. If he could just scratch a circle, he could get them off. He needed to hurry. _Get him to talk, distract him, take his attention off Winry and slow him down_, his frantic thoughts told him.

Having Barry’s attention on him, though, while it might have made Winry safer, did not make Ed feel safe, at all. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, almost, and he was struggling to control his breathing.

“Why? Because I enjoy it, I suppose,” Barry rubbed his chin in mock wonder, Winry proceeding to struggle more when he released her. She froze with fear-filled eyes when he glanced in her direction, again. Barry, though, turned and walked away, and Ed felt a tiny whisper of relief when he began talking more, even past his fear. “The first person I killed was my wife,” Barry explained. _His wife?_

The transmutation circle’s outer ring felt right, under Ed’s thumb, but he forced himself not to look too distracted. It was all over if he clued this guy in on what he was doing. “We were having some petty argument, you see,” Barry continued, his voice calm and carefree, “Then, without meaning to, I killed her…but then, she cut up so _neatly_, you know?” Ed began scratching the pattern in the inner circle, keeping his eyes focused on this…this _killer_. “After that,” Barry nonchalantly lifted up his cleaver, and Winry began crying past the gag, again, “I started wanting to cut people up even more neatly…I wanted _everyone_ to see.”

“How can one person kill another for something like that!?” Ed forced himself to argue, past the dry lump in his throat.

Barry spun around, a demented sort of glee in his eyes, “Oh, but they _can!_” he began striding towards him.

Edward gasped and began struggling, he had a weapon _in his hand_, “Stay back!” He cried. He tensed with his eyes shut, but Barry stopped in front of him, just…standing there.

“Given just the slightest opportunity, one person can kill another,” Barry told him, “If they go off to war, it’s even easier. Why do you suppose that is?” He asked, in that way that someone did when they already had an answer.

“I-I…” Edward was in trouble, he had to get the circle finished _now_, “I don’t know…” He could feel panic clawing its way up his throat. Barry suddenly thrust the cleaver forward, and white-hot pain seared through his left shoulder, prying a scream of pain free, before Ed could clench his jaw shut again. He could feel the warmth of his own blood running down his arm. Winry screamed, somewhere further away, terrified for him.

Barry leaned in close, and Ed could feel the heat of the man’s breath on his face, “It’s because people _want_ to kill each other,” He explained, his eyes lit with a twisted sort of joy as he spoke. “On the battlefield, I saw a State Alchemist just like what you want to be, kill other people with ease.” He raised his fist, “Splat!” he opened his fingers in a sort of bursting motion, “…Just like that.”

“No…” Ed felt pricks of heat at the corners of his eyes, his mind flashing to several things at once. His mom, crumbled in a heap on the floor, giving in to sickness, and him and Al at her bedside, feeling her hand go slack in their hold. The face of…_that night_…struggling to breathe and dying so soon…it was his fault…but he _was not_ a killer. “No!” Ed screamed against the accusing image that haunted him in his dreams at night, as he completed scratching the final part of the circle, tapping it with his finger.

Barry backed away as the light of a transmutation sparked, and the chains shattered, freeing Edward to run away.

“-Why you!” Barry moved to slash at him with the cleaver, and Ed barely rolled aside in time, thudding against the ground as the chair smashed into splinters. His eyes spotted a metal rod lying on the floor and he caught it with his foot, tossing it up and catching it with his left arm, while the serial killer moved to come after him again. He screamed, desperate for a way out, desperate to get away. His heartbeat was frantic, his breathing erratic, and his shoulder was in agony. He was going to die here, wasn’t he? Nobody was coming, and he was going to-

And then something happened.

A howl, eerie and resonant, echoed through the room. Barry stopped going after Ed, and whirled around to face the source of approaching footsteps, something big and _fast, _running through the maze of pig carcasses and straight for him. He was unable to so much as raise the cleaver before a massive form collided with him, knocking the knife right from his hand and slamming him, _hard,_ against the wall, where he crumbled to the floor. The cleaver flew far away and clattered against the ground somewhere. Ed got to his feet and ran a short distance, out of his mind with fear, before tripping and crashing down again. He shifted with his one good arm, still clutching the metal rod, and looked back to see what had just happened.

It was too fast for him to clearly process, past his frantic thoughts, the gigantic silver shape with a black cape of sorts, biting with gleaming white teeth deep into the butcher’s leg. It began dragging him away from the wall, away from Ed, and whenever Barry tried to curl up in his struggles in an attempt to _hit_ whatever it was that had him crying with pain with his fists, it would _shake _him, pulling his entire body by the one limb. He managed to flip himself over onto his stomach, but the creature—_Bunny?­_—moved on top of him, an awful sound like ripping fabric happening when claws dug into his back and _pulled._

Barry’s screams replaced Edward and Winry’s, then, somehow much louder, from that one, single scratch, before massive paws pinned his arms and legs to the ground, no hope of the butcher getting up with Bunny’s weight on his back. She sniffed his hair, muzzle stained faintly red around the corners of her mouth. He was breathing, _alive_, but held deathly still, as if knowing that would prevent any further injury to himself. Ed could make out that his eyes were wide with terror of their own.

Bunny finished her inspection, before her head turned to look at Ed, dark eyes glinting with something feral, “I’ll hold him here. Get Winry.” She told him.

Barry laughed, verging on hysterical, from where he was pinned, “…A…a talking dog…?”

She growled at him, making his laughter abruptly stop.

Edward stared, for a moment, before managing to get to his feet, trembling all over, mind blank, “Bunny…? ...What?”

“I followed your scent here.” She explained, fur still bristling like she was on the edge of anger. “Al and Hughes are probably on their way. Hopefully with a bunch of police, too. I didn’t bother looking to see if they followed.” She tossed her head, gesturing to something behind her, “Get Winry, Ed.”

At that, his legs suddenly started obeying him, and he ran on one leg that was fine, and another that felt like it wanted to give out beneath him. He went around the chimera, shaking with fear, and his face hot with tears, when he was near the guy she had pinned beneath her. He went up to where Winry was, and reached up, trying to untangle the chains from around her wrists with one arm, finally succeeding in doing so, in spite of his hand being clammy.

Winry reached up and ripped the gag off, before wrapping her arms around him, burying her face in his right shoulder where he was not wounded, and crying into it, a damp patch slowly growing on his shirt.

They stood like that, for a good while, trying to process things, before voices began echoing through the shop. A police officer appeared from around a row of hogs with a gun in his hands, taking stock of the situation, making Ed and Winry both flinch. He looked back over his shoulder, “They’re over here!” He called. Bunny abruptly moved away from Barry, who rolled over onto his back and put his hands up in surrender, other officers coming in to detain him. A smile that carried a strange mix of glee, fear, and relief was on his features.

“Geez, he’s all beat up. Guess we’re going to have to take him to the hospital, first.” One commented, as they tried to take him away, revealing he could barely walk on the leg that the chimera had bitten.

Another officer laughed, “After all those cases, we finally got ‘em!”

A third went up to the worktable, reaching out to grab something, when Bunny gave a non-aggressive rumble and grabbed it, instead, snorting with it in her mouth. Ed’s automail. The third officer looked back and forth between the chimera, and Ed, before recognition dawned in his eyes, “Oh.”

Bunny slowly walked over to where Edward and Winry were, and Ed could not help that he shrank back slightly, when she approached. He immediately felt guilty, though, when he saw sadness flicker through her features. It wasn’t even that she had effectively mauled someone, that had him scared. He was jumping at every little sound or approaching figure, but who knew what _she_ thought, given he had actually witnessed her doing it?

Winry was the one who let go, first, reaching out and taking the prosthetic from Bunny’s mouth, turning it over in her hands, and smiling shakily in that fragile way that said she was trying very hard to keep it together, “…It’s not damaged…and…neither is…your port…” Her voice wavered, “We…can just reattach it…but…it’ll hurt…”

Familiar metal footsteps became audible, “Brother!” Alphonse arrived next, stopping by the three, and taking in the sight of Ed’s shoulder, the bleeding having stopped, but still with dried trails of red down his arm. The other had missing automail, and Winry was holding the arm. Both of them had been crying. Bunny had faint stains on her muzzle and her right leg.

Edward flinched back from his own _brother_, then, too.

The points of red light focused on his shoulder, “Brother, does that hurt?” He asked.

“I…I thought was going to be killed…I really thought that I was going to die…” Tears started streaming down his face, then. “I was scared…really, really scared…” Alphonse reached out a hand and rested it on his shoulder, away from the cut that was still stinging painfully.

Everyone was ushered out of the butcher’s shop, while the police went to go and collect evidence. While Winry was taken aside to talk to some officers and give information about what had happened, Ed was left sitting next to Al on the steps of the butcher’s shop, feeling drained and exhausted, his automail arm sitting next to him, waiting to be reattached, whenever Winry was finished. Everything seemed to be happening in a daze. Everyone kept their distance, giving them enough space to talk without someone listening to them. Someone had draped a blanket over Ed’s shoulder, hiding his port from view. There was a quick bandage that had been applied to his left side. Bunny hung close by, watching the proceedings warily, and did not stop growling until a police car took Barry away.

“Brother…since I no longer have a mortal shell, I can’t feel the terror that you felt, thinking you were going to die…I’m sure it must have been painful, and lonely.” Al told him, “I want my body back, brother, I want to be able to feel what you felt, to feel human again. If we find the Philosopher’s Stone, I can have that, and we can repair what we’ve broken.”

“When I was certain he was going to kill me, my mind went blank, and I didn’t have any hope anymore,” Ed stared listlessly down at the ground. “The only thing I could do was scream my lungs out…I felt so helpless…I couldn’t even bring myself to _believe_ someone might save me…” He felt tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes again, then. There was the click of claws against cobblestones and he felt a heavy skull rest on top of his head. “…Bunny…?”

“You’re going for that Stone, aren’t you?” She asked, her voice so quiet that she was barely audible, perhaps to prevent anyone from overhearing.

“…Yeah?” Ed felt a tear streak down his face.

“We’re going to get you and Al’s bodies back…and you’re doing so much for that…both of you are…” She drew a deep breath, before sighing, “I never wanted these things for you…if I’d been there…I would have smelled human blood on that man…and…_known_ he meant you and Winry harm…I was so glad that he never locked the doors…”

“I realized…” Ed closed his eyes, “…If we don’t look out for each other, no one else will…I’ll do anything to get our bodies back, even if it means becoming the military’s lapdog…we’ll just have to hope our powers are good enough…to let us rise above our limits…”

His entire frame began shake with sobs, “We’re not gods…we’re humans…_insignificant _humans…” A fur-covered hand, Bunny’s left, free of bloodstains, wrapped around his shoulders then, careful to avoid his injury in an effort to comfort him to the best of her ability.

She said nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Barry, in the hospital for his bite wound and claw mark: I'm telling you, the dog talks!
> 
> Officer: Yeah, right. You hacked up women and tried to target two kids with a meat cleaver. Like we believe you. 
> 
> Barry: But it did!
> 
> Officer: That dog did not speak a word, anywhere around us. It whines and howls like a normal dog.
> 
> Barry: *Begrudging silence*
> 
> Another Officer: So, I wonder what the news is going to do with this story.
> 
> Officer: Well, Colonel Mustang over in East City who recommended that kid? I bet he'll freak when he finds out that his prodigy prospective State Alchemist got kidnapped, and the kid's dog mauled this guy.
> 
> Another Officer: Nah, he'll jokingly assign a rank to the dog, or something, and make it higher than a State Alchemist.
> 
> Officer: But...a State Alchemist is a rank equivalent to Major. Assuming the kid gets in, then his dog would have to be a Lieutenant Colonel to be of higher rank...right?
> 
> Another Officer: ...Actually, the Colonel wouldn't do that. The dog would probably climb the ranks into Colonel, too, and I'm not so sure that guy would like having to compete with a canine for Brigadier General.
> 
> Officer: *laughing* Yeah, two dogs of military, the more popular one is always going to be the real one.


	9. The World Keeps Turning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio meets Mustang's team, and Edward finds out the results of his State Alchemist Exam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels slightly weird, to me, but then I realize that it fluctuates between sort of sad, and then comedic. It's a bit shorter than normal, but winds down compared to the previous chapter, which was a lot longer and heavier.
> 
> Some major stuff, though, still takes place in this chapter. Lines are borrowed from the Manga, for the tiny bit that actually involves canon, and everything else is stuff I thought would be fun to write. Since everyone went to East City to receive Ed's test results, they actually get to meet Mustang's team, now. It's a little bit short, given I can't picture Ed having any interest in hanging around getting to know people, but thankfully, Al and Bunny are there!
> 
> You will find that the plot heavily diverges, after this point, with Edward finally becoming a State Alchemist. Dialogue and events may drastically change, because in addition to Bunny being able to do things like track scents and sense intentions, Ed and Al, while retaining their core personalities, may develop certain skills or behaviors, due to her influence. 
> 
> I'm looking forward to writing about the stuff the characters get into.

“Thanks for helping me with this,” Bunny said, as Winry began rubbing shampoo into her leg to wash the blood out. After the entire mess with the serial killer and his subsequent arrest, everyone had been escorted to the Hughes residence. Ed’s automail was clean and well-maintained, which had pleased Winry immensely, in spite of her still being in a state of shock. He had managed to avoid being struck with a wrench, thanks to it, although Bunny had seen her hiding it behind her back, prepared to use it. After reconnecting his arm and leaving him on the sofa to recover from the pain, she had offered to help Bunny wash the blood off of her face and leg. The chimera could only guess that, after having felt helpless, doing something, from maintaining Ed’s prosthetics to helping her get clean, was therapeutic.

Winry was quiet for a long pause, before her eyes welled with tears, “…You _saved_ us, Bunny. He was…” She started choking on sobs, then.

“I know, I saw…your wrists look pretty bruised, though. I doubt they’re broken, but you’re sure they aren’t sprained?” She asked.

“No…the chains were just…really tight…” She tried to compose herself and wipe the tears away using her shoulder. It had been a bit of redness and mild swelling initially, but now her wrists were darkening into a deep shade of purple, and looked very tender. Winry was by no means a weak girl, if her throwing arm was anything to go by, but she had been chained up on some sort of track, and yanked around by what most people considered to be a very delicate part of her hands. Bunny would not be surprised if her muscles ached from her arms being held up above her heart for an extended period. Ed had been forced to get stitches from some paramedics, but Winry had sustained injury from the incident, as well.

“Okay, just making sure. Looks pretty nasty, though.”

“…How are you so calm about this?” Winry managed to suppress the tears and avoid a full breakdown, thanks to Bunny’s relative lack of distress.

“I mauled that guy, and you got out okay…so I’m mostly relieved…I _am_ pretty tired, though. I was running as fast as I could, and where you were was actually a decent distance away from Command, on foot. The adrenaline kind of helped me to ignore it, but it’s all gone, now.” Bunny responded. She omitted the deep sense of sadness she felt, over the fact that some of the children’s innocence was gone forever. Her rage, though, had largely been assuaged by Barry the butcher’s arrest. The serial killer would be tried for his crimes, and the chimera had carved a painful memento with her claws.

“Well, you _are_ kind of limping a bit. Are your legs sore?”

“Yeah. I’m going to be in pain, tomorrow. I should probably start trying to figure out a way to physically condition myself; I have a feeling I’m going to need it. The boys have sparring but…” She flexed the claws on her hand as Winry washed soap out of it, “I’m not exactly built for non-lethal combat, here.”

“Yeah, I can’t see that working,” Winry responded, “You don’t have to spar or do training, though. I think you’re pretty strong without that. They’ve already converted you into another alchemy freak, you don’t need to run a marathon, too.”

Bunny wagged her tail at the terminology, throwing a few droplets around as Winry took a towel and proceeded to dry her face, and then her paw. Talking about stuff like this was…familiar, and comforting. Having something to do, and dwelling on things other than the incident. “It’s more that I want to be able to get to them, if something happens. There’s something else, though,” Her smile became more serious, “I’ve decided I want to study medical alchemy, Winry, but I’ve only got basic biology knowledge, and the most I know about anatomy is artistic…that’s not enough. The boys are there if I need help with a symbol or form for an array, but I need to know more about medicine itself, so…”

“You’re asking me?” Winry blushed slightly, flattered.

Bunny nodded, “Yes. Is there any reading material you would recommend? Ed and Al found bookstores throughout Central these past few days, and it’ll be a little longer before the State Alchemist results are announced. I want to focus on wound healing—you can’t alchemize medicine out of thin air, but the materials to patch a broken bone, or seal up a wound? It’s not performing miracles; it’s just speeding up a process that was already there.”

The girl pondered it for a moment, a sad smile coming over her features. Like Alphonse, she probably realized that what Bunny had seen that fateful night was part of what motivated her decision. “I think I might know some books. Hopefully one of those places has them…but we’ll have to work together to pull the boys away from it, if they find something about alchemy. Somehow I don’t think you’ll be a problem.” Perhaps against her wishes, another tear fell, even as she tried to speak jokingly.

Bunny gave her a grin that felt slightly painful, “I missed you, Winry. It’s nice to have another girl to talk to.”

“Yeah…same…”

The chimera wrapped a paw around her in a hug when the tears started falling, full force.

“…Wow, you weren’t kidding, there’s pet hair _everywhere_.” Winry commented, keeping her voice low to avoid offending the small number of people who were in the same car as their little group. Although they had expected the State Alchemist exam results to not be announced for another three days, Hughes had reported after work the day before, that they had already selected the candidates that would receive certification for the year. Winry, given that the boys would be heading on a train to East City the next morning, had decided to stay for a second night at one of the hotels in Central, before traveling with them. They would be on the same car until they reached the capital for the eastern sector. From there, Ed, Al, and Bunny would head over to Command to speak with Mustang and find out the results of the exams, and Winry would take another train back to Resembool.

The hardest thing about leaving Central? Nina breaking down and crying, because Bear and her big brothers (and big sister, too, now) were leaving. Everyone had given her hugs and kisses and promised to try and visit. They would have to remember to bring a gift when they did. There might be another member of the household, however small, the next time they stopped by. Bunny would worry about the Hughes family fussing over how kids did not need to bring a baby gift_ after_ the fact.

The day they got to spend together in Central had been relatively uneventful, which Bunny was grateful for. After the initial stress caused by the serial killer incident, they fell back into a sense of normalcy that everyone seemed to desperately need. Ed and Al went with Winry to bookshops, some of which required Bunny to wait outside under their awnings with Alphonse, and Winry had selected two books that she thought would be useful for the chimera’s choice to learn medical alchemy. During this time, Bunny and Alphonse quietly exchanged knowing glances while the elder Elric and Rockbell bickered.

“Yeah, we wound up buying a lint roller for it. I mean, we usually get Bunny’s fur on us, but she’s _clean, _you know?” Ed responded.

Bunny would have joked, here, that hair could possibly be an allegory representing the people in your life. You were disgusted usually, but tolerated the ones you liked, and wanted to be _rid_ of everyone else. It was gross, and even if you, yourself, did not mind being covered with pet hair, everyone else _did._ Ed and Al had simply given up on being completely rid of Bunny’s fur, at some point. They would still remove it from their clothing, but a few strands of silver hair would inevitably cling to their garments, somewhere. It was simply a consequence of sharing quarters with a creature that possessed a fur pelt. They faintly smelled of canines, but Bunny had no idea if humans could detect her scent on them, or not. Winry had a faint smell from the chimera, too, but she smelled more strongly of Den.

When you had a super-sensitive nose, you were aware of just about everything. Bunny was reliable for identifying people and tracking things, but if you wanted to ask her if you smelled, the answer would always be ‘yes’, in some form or fashion. Smells were not inherently negative things.

Conversation was interrupted by the appearance of a tawny kitten with tuxedo markings, which padded into the group’s booth. It brushed against Al’s leg, then Ed’s, and proceeded to startle Bunny by jumping onto her back and curling up to take a nap. The chimera grumbled, turning her head to look over at the brothers. There was an unspoken rule that if an animal fell asleep on you, under _no circumstances_, were you allowed to move. Passengers in the booth across the aisle noticed this interaction, and started snickering.

“Uh…whose cat?” Ed asked.

A young man with black spiked hair, round eyes framed by glasses that left the bottom part of the lenses exposed, and softer features appeared from down the aisle, looking around and spotting the animal, “Oh, there you are,” He sighed with relief, before noticing what the kitten had fallen asleep _on._ “That’s…a really big dog…” He seemed a little afraid to approach. He was dressed neatly, with a white short-sleeve button-up and grey trousers.

“Your cat decided to use Bunny as a pillow.” Winry commented.

The young man laughed slightly, “Oh, I’m not his owner. I found him in the street while I was visiting some relatives. I decided to take him back to East City with me and see if I could find anyone to take him in. I’m sorry if he caused you any trouble.” He looked at the chimera as if he were still not sure if she would decide to bite him or not, if he got too close. She blinked lazily at him as he spoke, “So your dog’s name is Bunny? What breed is she? Looks almost like a wolf.”

“She’s a mix,” Al responded, getting a surprised look when the man noticed the suit of armor. Alphonse inclined his head, “If you need to get the cat off her back, she won’t bite you or anything. She’s really sweet.”

Bunny wagged her tail slightly, at that, and tilted her head at the man questioningly, raising her ears in that cute way that she knew often won people over.

Slightly encouraged by this, the stranger leaned over her and plucked the cat off her back. The kitten squirmed briefly, ears flattening with annoyance at being disturbed from its nap, but then immediately curled back up in the man’s arms. “There, don’t run off again, now.” He then blinked at the three individuals present before laughing slightly, “Oh, right, where are my manners? My name’s Kain.”

“I’m Alphonse, and this is my older brother, Edward,” Al gestured to his sibling.

“I’m Winry, and you’ve already met Bunny.” Winry chimed in.

“Wait…Alphonse and Edward…as in…the Elric brothers?” Kain asked, before something like realization bloomed on his face. He turned to Ed, “You’re the kid that my commanding officer recruited a year ago.”

Ed straightened, his expression immediately going from relaxed to suspicious and guarded, “You’re with the Colonel?” He asked, scowling, his voice taking on a slightly biting edge.

Kain nodded, “Yes, but I didn’t expect to run into you. He said you would be coming in for your exam results…I _promise_ I wasn’t following you on purpose, it really is just a huge coincidence.” He must have noticed the way that Ed seemed to grow hostile at the mention of Mustang. It was not really that difficult to miss, given that he did not really bother to guard his expressions, much.

Edward shifted and lightly tilted his head, making eye contact with Bunny, silently asking the chimera if the man was telling the truth. Bunny gave a faint nod that would be missed by just about anyone who was looking. This Kain guy was completely sincere about running into the Elrics being an accident, as far as she could tell.

Ed relaxed slightly, at this, “Alright, then, as long as you’re not following us on purpose.” He said bluntly. “We’re heading to Command as soon as we get off this train to see what the results of the exam are.” He looked out the window, “I’m not really worried about it, though.” He murmured.

“I can take you guys up to his office, if you want, that way you don’t have to ask someone to go fetch him.” Kain offered, “Today’s an off day, so I’m not in uniform, but the guys at the entrance know me.”

Al nodded, “We would be grateful,” He responded.

Ed frowned, “One question, they aren’t going to make us leave Bunny outside, are they?”

Kain shook his head, “No, of course not. People bring pets into the building to keep them company while they work, even. East Command is really relaxed like that.”

“Good, ‘cause the Colonel can come out of the building and talk to _us_, if they’re going to do that. Bunny comes with us wherever we go.”

Kain knelt down to look Bunny in the eye, and the chimera tilted her head to the other side, as the young officer spoke, “The Colonel said that you had a dog, but he never mentioned what it looked like.” He offered a hand for her to sniff, and she did so, committing his scent to memory. The kitten opened one eye and reached out a paw, claws sheathed, and patted her on the nose, until the young man shifted it so it could no longer reach her.

“Oh, well, I guess that’s not really too surprising.” Winry folded her arms, “Her name is really misleading, but nobody realizes how big she is until they see her in person. He might have wanted to mess with you guys.”

Kain laughed slightly and scratched Bunny behind the ears, “Yeah, that sounds like the Colonel.” He responded, before standing back up. “You want me to warn people before you come into the office?”

Ed shrugged, “You don’t have to do that, we confuse people with Bunny’s name all the time.”

“Well…okay, but I do have _one _person I want to tell, though, that you have your dog with you, ahead of time. He’s…really scared of them, so I’d like for him to be able to brace himself for it.”

Al nodded, “Okay, that’s fair.”

Winry gave a sympathetic, slightly pained smile, “This isn’t going to work out so well…”

Ed met her look, “Yeah…We have our reasons for why we keep Bunny with us…but…that kind of complicates things.”

By all accounts, humans took priority over people. Bunny, as far as anyone else was concerned, was a regular dog, albeit a very big one. It would be reasonable, by normal standards, to leave Bunny outside the office, rather than force the person with a phobia of dogs to remain in close quarters with her. The problem, then, was that she was a _chimera_, and human, on the inside. It was clear that Mustang had not informed his subordinates that she was actually a person, but some small part of her, then, wished he _had._ The best way to keep a secret was to never tell it, but on some level, there was a price to be paid for it. Bunny could handle the surprise when she was seen for the first time, she even thought it was funny, and she could tolerate, too, the brief flash of instinctive fear she saw in most adults. People who were really and truly _terrified_ of dogs, though, actually bothered her, to some extent.

Edward might take Bunny’s hurt feelings personally, and people would think he was irrationally protective of his pet. They would have no idea that they were hurting an _actual_ person. If they ever found out, then they might feel horribly guilty. Dogs did not receive the same level of respect as a human. Strangers treated Bunny well, largely because they saw the interactions between her and the boys. How would they react, knowing that there had actually been another human being, hiding right in plain sight?

She wondered how the Colonel and everyone else would handle this.

After bidding farewell to Winry at the train station, making their way into East Command had been a lot easier, thanks to Kain’s help (should they be calling him Fuery, his last name?). He led them through a series of hallways before stopping outside an office, and turning to the three, “You guys wait here while I go warn Breda, it’ll only be a moment.” He said, before opening the office door, accompanied by a few calls of greeting, and went inside, still holding a content kitten with one arm.

There was a brief pause, before a terrified shriek came from the office. _“A dog!? They brought a dog!?”_

_“Hey, she’s really sweet…you can get off the cabinet, now.”_

_“No way! I’m staying up here where it’s safe!”_ Bunny and the brothers exchanged knowing looks. Bunny could easily stand on her hind legs if she focused on keeping her back straight, rather than trying to perform a task. Most furniture was shorter than her, and East Command seemed to have really high ceilings that would accommodate an inhumanly tall creature. The chimera doubted that this ‘Breda’ person would actually feel any safer, even hiding on top of a cabinet.

Mustang’s voice filtered through, then, _“Go ahead and bring them in. I’m surprised you didn’t do it, already. I see you brought a cat, also.”_

_“Well, I had to warn Breda that they had Bunny with them, and I couldn’t just leave this guy. I know a few families that have been interested in getting a cat.”_

Another voice chimed in, then, and Bunny’s nose wrinkled slightly as she picked up the smell of tobacco smoke getting closer to the door, _“I don’t understand why you’re so worried, Heymans, what kind of dog named ‘Bunny’ could possibly be-”_

A taller man with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a cigarette hanging from his mouth opened the door to let the three in, and he froze, staring down at Bunny—he was taller than her, but she still came up to his chest. “-scary?” He finished his sentence, and slowly backed away, “Hey, hey, what kind of trick is this? This dog is a giant!” He turned to look at Alphonse, “And a person in a suit of armor?” His eyes drifted to Edward, “And this little guy-”

_“Who are you calling ‘little’? I’m still growing you jerk!”_ Bunny quickly grabbed Edward by his hood before he could launch himself at the poor, unsuspecting officer.

“Brother, please, calm down.” Alphonse patted Ed reassuringly on the shoulder until he settled enough that the chimera thought it would be safe to release him. The officer, meanwhile, blinked at the three with intensifying bewilderment. “Ah…sorry about that…I didn’t mean any offense…please, come in.” He stepped aside, allowing the brothers and Bunny to enter.

A stockier officer with short, spiked brown hair and a square jaw was immediately apparent, curled up on top of a set of metal lockers, “Don’t let it in here!” He exclaimed, with a very real note of panic in his voice. The chimera now felt really bad for this guy, but she knew better than to pay any attention to him. It would be better to pretend he did not exist, because he would probably interpret even a glance in his direction as a potential threat.

Mustang smirked at Edward as he rose from a desk at the end of the room and walked over, clearly amused, “Nice of you to stop by. Here for the results?” He asked, holding an envelope in one hand.

Ed shoved his hands in his pockets, “Did I pass, or what?”

“You’ve passed, but I need you to sign some papers to finalize your certification. We can use one of the empty offices.” He turned to Alphonse, “You and Bunny can wait in here.”

With that, he led Edward out of the office, leaving the younger brother and chimera by themselves in a room full of strangers. For a moment, everyone just quietly stared at each other. The first thing that the chimera noticed was that people had probably expected the State Alchemist exam candidate to be Alphonse, given his armored body had stature more akin to an adult. The younger brother was generally deemed to be more mature than Ed, because his temper was less apparent, and he was usually the more agreeable sibling. The second thing Bunny was aware of, was the fact that people were still a bit bewildered over her highly misleading name. Mustang’s team quietly looked between the two new arrivals for a moment, before Alphonse broke the silence.

The younger Elric turned to the officer that Edward had nearly attacked, “So…I’m the younger brother, Alphonse, and this is Bunny.”

The man blinked for a moment, before an easygoing smile came across his features, “Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc, nice to finally meet you. The Chief said he’d recruited a couple of kids, but I didn’t really believe it.” He held out a hand to shake, and Al did so. Havoc then moved on and held out a hand for Bunny to sniff. The chimera inspected it—the guy smelled like an _ashtray_, he must have been a heavy smoker—and promptly turned away with a sneeze. A few other people in the office laughed, knowing fully-well why.

A grey-haired man with squinted eyes approached next, “Warrant Officer Vato Falman, I look forward to working with you.” His introduction was far more formal, though he proceeded the same way Havoc had, with a handshake, followed by offering a palm for the chimera. Bunny found nothing wrong with this man’s scent, and thankfully did not sneeze. She could still technically tell people apart, even if they were smokers, but tobacco was an incredibly strong smell that irritated her nose. It clung heavily to Havoc, like a foul-smelling aura, and it was faintly present on the rest of the team, because of proximity.

Havoc gestured with a thumb towards the guy who continued to cower in fear, off the ground, “That guy over there is Second Lieutenant Breda, he’s a bit scared of dogs.” Either this guy was just very relaxed, in general, or Breda reacted to things like this far more often than anyone was letting on. “You’ve already met Master Sergeant Fuery, and Lieutenant Hawkeye.”

Hawkeye smiled at the two, “Nice to see the three of you again,” She told them, though Edward had left the room. “The Lieutenant Colonel told us what happened in Central. Is everyone alright?”

Al gave a nervous laugh, “Well, minor injuries, but everyone’s fine.”

By this time, Breda had warily climbed off of the cabinet and was now ducking behind a chair at one of the desks. Bunny had the bizarre sense of role-reversal. Now it was the animal trying to win a skittish human over, versus the other way around. Except she was a _chimera_, and also human. In a cosmic sort of way, it was funny, but it was hard when the guy was _moving_ to ignore him. Her kinetic vision was extremely good, and she _did_ possess a prey drive, however much control she had over it. Her gaze was drawn to moving objects naturally, and it was hard to fight against it.

“Well, that’s good to hear. You seem to be doing well.” Hawkeye commented.

Al gave a faint nod, “We spent yesterday visiting libraries and bookstores, but Bunny and I had to wait outside several of them, since they didn’t allow dogs.”

Havoc gave Bunny a pat on the head, “You take her everywhere you go, huh?” He asked, and was rewarded with a small tail wag. Had it been anyone else, she might have licked their wrist, even, but he smelled bad, so she had inhibitions about doing so. He seemed like an alright person; he radiated a sort of calmness that was very reassuring. Being sensitive to the moods of other people meant she naturally gravitated towards individuals who gave off an aura of stability or sureness.

“We do,” Al responded, “Bunny’s really smart and well-behaved, so we would take her everywhere back home. Central was a bit weird, though, because of the leash laws. We got away with a lot, as it turns out.”

“Smart?” Havoc mused, “Does she know any tricks?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t like doing simple commands. She prefers tricks that are a little bit more challenging or complex, like recognizing objects or even tracking things. You can probably ask an open-ended question and she could answer it.”

Falman spoke up, then, “So if I asked her to bring me a pen, would she be able to do-” Bunny had already started sniffing along the rows of desks as soon as the item had been requested, before grabbing a pen off of the one that she suspected belonged to the Warrant Officer based on scent, using her mouth, “…ah, never mind.” He backed away initially when the chimera approached, but took the offered item, after a moment of hesitation, “Good girl?”

“She even found your desk, Falman,” Kain commented. The kitten in his arms opened its eyes and began trying to climb up onto the Master Sergeant’s shoulders. Eventually, it succeeded. It curled around his neck like a sort of fluffy accessory, surveying everyone in the room. Breda, meanwhile, was looking past Kain at Bunny, not exactly hiding, now, but using the young man as a barrier between himself and the chimera.

If only these poor people realized that, with human-level intellect, it was child’s play to do what was considered to be more complicated tricks. The smell part was definitely thanks to her canine and ursine components, but her intelligence was her greatest asset, when people thought she was merely an animal. Hawkeye had a small, knowing smile on her face, but did not try to ruin her fun. For that, the chimera was grateful.

Bunny thought she heard people approaching, then, and walked over to the office door, rising onto her hind legs slightly and opening it, right as Mustang was reaching for the knob, himself. He blinked with a hint of surprise, for a moment, before recovering, “Thank you for getting the door, Bunny.” He said, trying to seem dignified even as several members of his team snickered. He entered, Edward following close behind, with a smaller grin that still managed to seem feral, too wide and showing more teeth than normal. Bunny wondered if he was copying her, sometimes.

“Brother, that was fast,” Al turned to him, as Ed reached out and gave Bunny an affectionate shove to the shoulder that she barely registered. It would take an immense amount of force to actually make her trip in any way, and from humans that would equate to something more akin to a tackle or a full-blown punch.

“There’s surprisingly not a lot of paperwork for being a State Alchemist,” Ed commented.

Havoc walked up to him, “So, we’ve been talking with your brother, but we didn’t get to do introductions. Edward, right?”

Just as before with Alphonse, people began introducing themselves, this time with the addition of Breda, who rushed his handshake before retreating, not wanting to be too close to the chimera for any extended period. Edward gave him an unamused look, before Mustang got his attention.

“Fullmetal,” The Colonel adopted that commanding officer tone that generally tried to instill obedience in anyone that heard it—so _that_ was Ed’s alchemist codename. A tough-sounding one, but also, if Bunny was honest, a bit mocking or even _cruel_, on Bradley’s part. “I don’t have an assignment for you, yet, but I should come up with something for you to do within the next few days. Go back home for now and let people know you have your certification. I expect you back here within the week.”

“Got it, Colonel,” Ed raised his arm in the laziest-looking salute he could probably muster, _designed_ to mock authority, before looking at his brother and the chimera, “Come on, we can probably catch a train and get home by nightfall.”

With that, he rushed out of the room, leaving the other two members of the trio to slowly follow.

…

There was a pause in the office after they left, before everyone turned to the Colonel.

“Chief, why didn’t you _tell_ us the dog was a giant?” Havoc asked.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Mustang responded, cheekily.

There was the click of a gun, signaling that Hawkeye had pulled out her weapon and removed the safety. Everyone immediately forgot whatever silly discussions or worries they had, in favor of doing their job.

Bunny kept her thoughts to herself as she watched the Elric household go up in literal flames. Pinako, Den, and Winry were there, as Edward threw the torch that he had used to set the building alight so that it joined the pyre. It was nightfall, and the stars twinkled above, but a plume of black smoke rose, obscuring some of the endless vastness. A gust of wind directed fire to jump to the grand old tree that rose alongside the structure, and the leaves were consumed. The glowing, destructive force traveled down the ropes of the swing suspended from one of its branches, charring them black and brittle, and it fell.

_No turning back_, that was the reason that the brothers gave for doing this, but Bunny still wondered if this was right. The building where a mother had raised two boys, where they had lived alone, and where a great taboo had been committed. The chimera had tried to scrub clean the array, after Pinako had buried the malformed creation the transmutation attempt had made, but the boys had never again set foot in the study, and now, they never would. Was this freeing them, or cursing them more?

Almost nothing had been salvaged from the house before they set it alight, with Edward arguing that he would now have enough funds that they would not have to worry about basic necessities. New clothing could be transmuted, and pet-friendly hotels were sufficient for ensuring they had a roof over their head. The suitcase they had packed to take with them to Central, and the things it contained, were now the sole possessions they owned.

Next to Bunny, tears began to flow down Winry’s face, and Edward noticed. He panicked a little, then, “Why are you crying?”

Winry frantically tried to wipe them away, “But…but…” She could not finish the statement.

Ed smiled at her, then, more fondly, “You’re hopeless, your crying hasn’t changed at all.”

The chimera watched this moment silently, before casting her gaze upward, where the smoke cleared and the stars shone.

Al, standing on the other side of her, noticed, then, “Bunny, what are you looking at?”

Bunny forced a smile that hurt, “The stars,” She responded.

He looked up, too, “They really are pretty…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Back in Mustang's office)
> 
> Breda: Colonel, why did you have to recruit one of those fanatic pet owners that doesn't go anywhere without their dog?
> 
> Mustang: I understand that you have an intense fear of dogs, but please understand that Bunny is a part of Fullmetal's working conditions. He won't go anywhere without his brother or the dog. You'll have to learn to tolerate when she's in the office.
> 
> Havoc: Isn't taking your pet with you on missions kind of dangerous?
> 
> Mustang, smirking: Not that dog. If anything, I feel sorry for anyone that tries to approach the Elrics with harmful intentions.
> 
> Havoc: An attack dog?
> 
> Mustang: Something like that.


	10. Chain of Accountability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio set out to complete Edward's first assignment as a State Alchemist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not know anything about coal mines, but did my best to research them for the sake of this chapter, which is not a part of the manga or either anime. I hope I did a good job on this, because my hand is cramping a bit from typing for so long. Classes start again tomorrow, so I was trying to finish this beforehand. My posting speed may or may not slow down a bit, because of classes.
> 
> Again, hope you all like this chapter! I was trying to figure out what a cool first assignment for Ed would be, and this is what I came up with!

The conference room could have been mistaken for a break room. Like the rest of East Command, it had white plaster walls and glossy green floors, but compared to the imagined large table surrounded by chairs, it was centered around two well-worn black sofas, facing each other across a coffee table. A plain red rug covered this area, making it far more relaxed than anything one would expect. There was ornamentation on the walls in the form of wooden rail molding, and at the end of the room sat a desk intended for the presiding official, in front of large windows adorned with beige drapes.

When the curtains were drawn, the room was blanketed with shadow, and they were half-closed, now, so that the only area of light came from directly behind Mustang. While Edward and Alphonse sat on one of the sofas, Bunny sat back on her haunches just past the border of the rug, wary of catching her claws and shredding it, in spite of the thing being old and already growing threadbare. Ed held a small stack of papers in one hand, slouching in his seat, reading over the briefing that the Colonel had given him. While using the conference room to provide his subordinate with the papers was not strictly necessary, it was a private area where Bunny could speak, and the boys could freely discuss the state of their bodies.

“So, Giribaz, mining town…a tunnel collapsed two days ago, and there’s people trapped in there…” Ed mused.

“This is your first mission as a State Alchemist. Get the miners out safely.” Mustang had his fingers interlaced, leaning over in his seat so that half of his face was hidden behind the white gloves he was now wearing. Almost instinctively, Bunny registered the transmutation circles on them, done in a striking crimson shade, and symbolic imagery that indicated, to her artistic mind, what the Flame Alchemist was known for. She spared them only a few moments, though, just enough to persuade her inner paranoia that they were not chimera-producing circles, or human transmutation arrays.

Bunny tilted her head, “Do we need to worry about things like treating injuries? It’s possible someone got hurt.” Mining was incredibly dangerous for a multitude of reasons, from debris getting into the lungs, to hazards posed by the cave-ins themselves.

“There should be personnel on-site to handle that, but I expect you to adapt to whatever situation you find, when you get there.” The Colonel responded. “Try to reach your destination quickly. The longer they stay trapped, the greater the chance something can go wrong.”

Ed tossed the papers on the coffee table, then, causing them to scatter, some missing the surface completely and landing on the rug instead. Bunny picked up the one nearest to her and set it back where it belonged, the gesture completely human. Alphonse did the same with the rest, before collecting them and stacking them, though now they were all out of order. “Well, this should be easy,” Ed commented.

“That means we need to take the train to New Optain, and then change to one going east at Irbukya.” Alphonse said, looking up at a large map on the wall that detailed all the railways in Amestris.

Ed had already stood up, “Well, let’s hurry up and get to the station!” He spun around and gave the Colonel a salute _with his left hand_, and then threw open the door to the conference room with enough force that it banged against the wall with a crash, before charging out. Not long after, there were startled yelps from older officers. “Out of my way! I’m in a rush here!” Ed’s voice echoed in from down the hallway.

Mustang’s mask was still in place, but Bunny could see the faintest crease between his brows, like he was fighting to keep the irritation off his face. It was debatable just what aspect of Edward’s exit frustrated him more. Was it the sloppy salute with the wrong arm, or the fact that he was running through the building and mowing down people who were unfortunate enough to be in his path?

“Brother! Wait up!” Alphonse turned to the Colonel, “Ah, sorry, I need to go catch him!” He then went and followed his sibling, trying to stop Ed from causing an accident, no doubt.

The chimera, left behind, wagged her tail, and compared to her younger companions, slowly trotted out of the room, giving a friendly howl of warning to people up ahead as she went.

Giribaz was your typical mining town, as far as anyone could tell. Nestled into the side of a mountain, it was surrounded by a forest that was a mix of oak, pine, and beech trees, all positioned at a minor incline that became steeper, the closer one came to the actual mine that fueled its economy. With so much lumber available, many of the buildings Bunny could see were built like log cabins, and the roofs were charmingly made from sheets of tin. The train station belonging to the town was designed so that cars of coal could easily be loaded and shipped out to various destinations. The actual passenger side of it was as small as Resembool’s, consisting of a brick platform with two benches, and a modest wall with awnings to shield travelers from the rain.

A burly-looking man with a handlebar mustache and dense brows furrowed in what seemed like a permanent glare was the sole individual to greet the three when they stepped off the train. He was older, perhaps in his sixties, with a long, flowing mane, and wrinkled skin that looked like leather, from constant exposure to the sun. Age had taken the pigment from his hair, leaving it a snowy white hue, and green eyes peered through square wire frames that seemed perhaps a little too low on his nose. He wore jeans and a sturdy pair of boots, and a plain white short sleeve. The man’s arms were folded, his shoulders square.

“Not often we see guests get off the train,” He mused, his voice gruff, before he suddenly hid his face in his shoulder and coughed; a dry, awful wheezing sound that suggested he had a form of bronchitis—most likely from prolonged exposure to coal dust. Looking at him, nobody would think there was anything wrong.

Ed briefly leaned back, perhaps because the man seemed ill, but responded, anyway, pulling out the silver watch he kept in his pocket, and showing it, “I’m Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. They sent me to help with the cave-in,” his voice came across as arrogant, rather than a sympathetic or serious tone that would probably fit the situation better. The appearance of an easygoing grin did not help the situation.

The man’s eyes widened briefly, before he scowled, “So you’re the State Alchemist they sent? The military’s recruiting kids, now? What help are you gonna be, boy?” He questioned, his tone doubtful, and perhaps angry, though one got the sense it had little to do with Edward, and more to deal with the people who sent him. Bunny was sure he was worried about the trapped miners, and admittedly, she had expected a reaction like this, when people saw that the State Alchemist sent to save lives was only twelve years old. The line of work Ed had chosen to aid in his search for the Philosopher’s Stone was one that was generally disliked, to begin with, and most people did not want to put their own lives, or that of friends and loved ones, into the hands of someone in their early teens. Instead of Ed’s confidence seeming reassuring, it came across as childish naivete. Perhaps it _was._

Ed glared at the man, “I’m not a kid!” He snapped.

Alphonse stepped forward, then, “My brother and I are both alchemists. If you can show us where the mines are, we can transmute the rubble into something that lets everyone get out safely. I’m Alphonse, and this is Bunny.” He introduced himself and the chimera.

The man snorted a little, but his expression softened slightly, “Guy in a suit of armor, weird hobby you got there,” He reached up to ruffle the fur on the chimera’s head, level with his eyes, the action gentle compared to the rest of his demeanor, before he went back to cough into his arm again, this time a worse fit that lasted longer. “Name’s Otis,” He introduced himself when he began recovering. He waved one arm, “Not sure why a kid has the watch, but come with me. Mine’s this way. We’ll figure out this mess once we get there.” He called over his shoulder, not stopping as he descended the steps of the train platform.

Edward quietly seethed, “Quit calling me a kid…” He gritted out through his teeth. They slowly followed Otis, lingering behind.

The chimera looked at Ed sidelong, and gave a quiet rumble, gently bumping against his side as they walked. It was times like these that she _wished_ she could speak, because all she could do was offer reassurance and comfort, and subtly indicate that lashing out was _not_ the correct way to go about things. Otis _seemed_ harsh, but he was also willing to give Ed a chance, which was more than what a lot of people would be inclined to do. For his imposing appearance, he radiated an energy that felt more protective, than anything else. Edward, for all his rage at being called a kid, was _twelve_, and Otis was _treating_ him like a child of that age.

Alphonse spoke to him as they walked, “Mr. Otis?” He asked.

“Just Otis, stranger, you don’t have to be formal with me.” The old man responded.

“O-okay, Otis, do you know how the miners that got trapped are doing?” Al stumbled a little over his words.

Otis gave a bitter laugh that turned into another coughing fit, mid-way through, “One of the ceilings in the tunnels collapsed initially, but when we finally locate the trapped workers after a day of panic, another part of the roof collapses and traps two more…we know where they are…but now there’s two blockages to deal with, and while we got ventilation shafts so we can communicate and they can get air, they aren’t eating down there. Water’s running low.” The worry was apparent in his voice, then.

“How many?”

“Eleven of our finest…” Otis spared Ed a glance over his shoulder, “I’ll take you down into the mines, kid, but I gotta warn you, something’s wrong about the mine safety. We’re _supposed_ to have measures in place so they can get out _through_ the ventilation shafts, but the ladders that should’ve been there were missing. You gotta be careful, too. Coal mining’s not like other mines, the rock’s less stable naturally. I don’t know a lick about alchemy, but one wrong move, and we can get trapped with ‘em.” He suffered another coughing fit, then.

Ed, by this point, even with all of his confidence, had started frowning in that way that told Bunny he was concerned. There was nothing simple about rescuing these workers; it was a life-or-death issue, that much everyone knew from the beginning, but it was far more _complex_ than Mustang had made it out to be. “We can reinforce the roofs, too,” He offered, perhaps not sure what else he could say.

Otis hummed slightly, before coughing a bit, “That might do the trick…another thing, you two don’t get claustrophobic, do you?”

Ed shook his head, at the same time that Alphonse said, “No.” Bunny, meanwhile, did not _think_ she had an issue with small spaces, but that had been human-her, not her current, chimera-self with animal instincts.

“Alright, good, ‘cause the ceilings are _real_ low, and you might have to crouch to go through some parts….Well, two of us, anyway.” Otis eyed Edward, no doubt that was a comment about his height.

Bunny quickly grabbed his hood before he could lash out, _“Who are you calling so small he can drown in a puddle!?”_

“Brother, please.”

“I didn’t say that, kid.”

The rest of the walk was in silence through the dusty center of the town, until they reached the base of the mountain, where a mixed crowd of people were milling about in a rocky yard of sorts, grey gravel dusted with black. A low hum of voices was punctuated by individuals who were wailing. Around a small building, the largest concentration of people gathered. There were men who sat cross-legged on the ground, stony-faced, and women who hid their faces in their hands, some with companions who held them close, trying to provide some sort of comfort. Elderly couples embraced; sorrow etched into their features. “My son, my son…” One older woman wept alone. Children were present at various ages, some young enough that they stared with confusion, but the older ones knew something was wrong.

A boy no older than Edward, it seemed, ran up, eyes wide, “Otis!” He gasped. His eyes were glistening in that way that indicated he was about to cry. A green shirt with tan shorts, dark eyes and matching black locks. Bandages were covering his arms and legs, and there were scars from small scrapes on his knees and elbows.

Otis took in the commotion, before looking at the boy, “Darcy, what’s going on, son? What happened?”

The tears Darcy had been suppressing began to fall, full force, and he took a moment to answer, “…The ventilation shaft collapsed…we can’t…talk to them now…” He furiously tried to wipe the tears away, sniffling pathetically.

Otis swore quietly under his breath, before kneeling a bit so that he was eye-level with the child, “We’re working on it, alright? We’ll get your dad out of there.” He reached out and gently ruffled the boy’s hair. He hunched over with a cough, then, this one much worse than anything that the group had seen previously. He turned to the trio before he had even fully recovered, “You two…” He hacked, “We don’t have a moment to lose….situation’s….taken a turn for the worse.” The man recovered, then, “With the ventilation shaft gone,” His voice was raspy, now, “The air supply down there is limited. The mines aren’t stable, someone’s messed up, and it’s costing us.”

Darcy, meanwhile, was crying hysterically. Bunny felt a desperate need to do _something_, so she walked up and rested her head on the unruly mop of dark hair that adorned the child’s head, giving a small, whine-like sound. The child wrapped his arms around her in a hug, then, though he could not properly enclose her back, and buried his face in her fur, muffling his sobs. Somewhere in the distance, a woman’s voice began calling. “Darcy!?” She sounded worried.

The boy pushed away from Bunny, sniffling, and petted her leg, “…You’re a nice dog…” He said, so quietly it was barely audible, before turning and running back into the crowd of people.

Edward watched the exchange with a thoughtful frown, before turning to Otis, “Just take us to where it is, and we’ll do the rest. We can take Bunny, too, if you’ll let us.”

Otis looked at her, “That dog is big enough she won’t be able to stand at her full height in the mines, and it’s not exactly a safe place for pets. Why should I let you risk her life?”

Alphonse responded, then, “Bunny isn’t a formal rescue dog or anything like that, but she’s really good at sensing danger, and if you show her what to do, she can do it. She can help us get people out of the tunnel if they’re injured.”

Bunny gave a very quiet howl and an exaggerated nod, at that, ears pricking forward.

“Bunny will find a way to follow us, even if you try to keep her out.” Ed responded, Al nodding in agreement. Both brothers knew, by now, that she would tear down any obstacle in her path, if she thought they were in danger.

Otis rolled his eyes, “Fine. I don’t know a thing about how alchemists operate, anyways, and there’s no time to argue.” He proceeded to lead them over to the building where everyone was gathered, “Make way! We got a State Alchemist here!” He called, before suffering a coughing fit. The words took effect, though, and the crowd parted easily to let the four through, until they got into the building itself.

The interior building was wooden walls, ceilings, and flooring, but it seemed to be some sort of communication room, crossed with a work storage area of sorts, with a table in the center of the room. There was a hole in one part of the floor, where a massive metal pipe stretched up and out of the building, curving at the top, and running into the ground. There were hooks on the wall where hard-hats and lanterns hung, and next to the door the group had entered, there was a phone and some other communication devices. On another wall, opposite of the pipe, there was an image detailing the mine, which spiraled down into a corkscrew, intersecting each loop with the coal veins. There was an image of the ventilation shaft, which must have been what the giant metal pipe was, going down like a staircase and connecting to each loop.

The most notable part of the map, though, were tiny yellow sticky notes, with sloppily written words, ‘collapse’ written on them, placed on two parts of the chart. A whisper-thin man who was ghostly pale, with completely shaven blonde hair, stared at it, holding a third, seemingly stricken. He was dressed in a nicer manner than everyone else, with a blue and white button-up, and tan slacks.

“William,” Otis began, coughing slightly.

The man jumped and turned around, revealing round, sorrowful eyes that had dark circles under them, as if William was not sleeping properly. “Otis…” He responded, his expression growing more distraught, “The ventilation shaft…we don’t know where the collapse is…but…” His hands curled into fists, crushing the note he had been holding, “I…I don’t know what to do…”

Otis rested a hand on Ed and Al’s shoulders, Edward immediately tensing at the contact, “These boys were sent in from East City,” the man said, his face grave, before jerking his head at Edward, “This one’s the State Alchemist you called for. Got here not a moment too soon.”

William blinked with surprise, arms curling towards himself defensively, as he looked up at Alphonse, and then down at Ed, and then at the massive, wolf-like dog behind them. “You need a lamp…a-and hard hats…” He said, before suddenly dropping the note he had been holding on the floor, where it sat in a crumbled ball, and walked over to the supply area. He looked over at them, briefly, before pulling a lantern off of its hook on the wall, and trying to find hard hats for everyone. With practiced movements, he inspected the equipment before resting it on the table, but he spoke as he did so, “If you’re wearing that suit of armor, you don’t need to worry about protective headgear…normally I’d suggest a second lamp, but fire burns up oxygen, and now it’s in limited supply…”

His hands started trembling as he retrieved a can of oil to fuel the lantern, “…Just…” He sighed and paused, raising a hand to cover his eyes, and shaking his head, “Just a kid…? _Why_ a kid?” He whispered, before he took a deep breath and looked at the two alchemists, “…You’re not what I expected, but…_please_,” He spoke with such desperation, “Get our men back safely. They’ve got family waiting up here…We’ve…lost _two_ more people down there, trying to get the original group out.”

Edward’s expression had become grim, to match the situation more appropriately, before he adopted a more determined set to his jaw, squaring his shoulders, “We’ll get them out.” He said, firm, in that way that made him seem like he was capable of moving mountains through sheer willpower alone.

“You’ll need a guide to help you navigate the tunnels…” William began walking to the door, but Otis reached out an arm and caught him by the shoulder.

“That’ll be me,” The older man said, before having to cough into his shoulder.

William whirled around, “Otis, you can’t do that.” He said, his voice firm, “Your lungs are in no condition for you to be breathing in coal dust. The mines haven’t been active since the accident, but it’s still floating around. It’ll aggravate your symptoms.”

“Don’t care,” He responded, gruffly. “I worked in those mines for forty years, I know how to go through ‘em and not get into an accident. These two,” He jerked his head at the brothers, “Need the best guide possible. Something rotten has been going on since we got the new safety inspector.”

William’s brows furrowed with concern, but he slowly nodded and backed away, “We’ve…been collecting evidence of his neglect…but the biggest evidence is this accident…fine…fine…but…I’m _serious_, Otis, this could see you shipped to New Optain and put in a hospital…”

“What’s wrong with his lungs?” Alphonse asked.

Otis shot him a look, “Nothing you need to concern yourselves with.”

Bunny whined, then, getting people’s attention, William speaking, first, “Are you planning on taking your dog down there with you?” He asked.

Otis huffed, “Apparently. Doesn’t make much sense, to me.”

“Depending on training, it might be a good idea.”

The old man heaved a wheezy laugh, “Well that’s news!” he started coughing, once more.

“Dogs are usually trained to find deposits of copper and nickel ore, but they can detect poison gas in the mines, too. Since the ventilation shaft is gone, there’s a risk of that. A dog doesn’t…_need_ training to sense danger, not like that…so…” William turned to Ed and Al, “You two watch your dog, okay. If she starts freaking out, you get out of there. She’s not on a leash, so I’m trusting that you don’t need one to keep her with you.”

The two nodded.

“Alright…then…well…” The man took a steadying breath, and forced a smile that seemed too tight, “Let’s…get you ready to go down there.”

The Giribaz coal mine was a creepy place. Surprisingly warm, despite being deep underground, with grey walls streaked with black dust. Everything was cast in a yellow hue, from the single oil lamp Otis was holding out in front of him. At regular intervals, thick wooden beams acted as support for the roof, and the center of the mine was lined with rails for carts of debris or coal to be removed. The most unsettling thing about the mine, though, was the fact that there was nothing visible in the distance beyond the light of the lantern, and it was deathly silent. The times Otis would suffer a coughing fit, it echoed hollowly throughout the tunnel. At a steady incline, they were walking around the corkscrew in the earth, going deeper. The air was still and unmoving.

The deeper they got, the darker the coal smudges on the walls became, and the gaps between the supports in the ceilings grew further apart. Otis stopped briefly to look at them, “…idiots…no wonder the roof collapsed…” He kept going, “We need to be careful, there’s not enough support for the ceiling.” He hacked slightly at the end of his sentence.

“Is that what that William guy was talking about? Evidence of neglect?” Edward asked.

Otis _harrumphed!_ At that, “I wasn’t here when the new safety inspector started working, but I’d noticed a pattern. More accidents, in general. These mine collapses? They’re just ultimate proof he’s been doing something wrong. Whoever’s supposed to be in charge of putting up the supports needs to be investigated, too.” He started coughing again, the sound bouncing off the walls. “They’re too far apart, and this is dangerous work, even when you’re doing everything _right._ People _need_ their coal, but miners shouldn’t have to die, just so someone can cut corners on lumber costs and line their pockets.”

They came to a spot where the roof grew shorter, “Alright, getting closer to the actual site of the accident. The lower part of the mine’s always shorter. Gonna have to hunch over a bit to get through.” He went first, ducking and walking that way, his back almost grazing the ceiling. Alphonse followed, awkwardly positioned to avoid scraping his armor. Nobody would dare call him lucky that he was incapable of feeling anything, but it was good, here, that he did not have muscles that would get tired. Edward’s head almost touched the ceiling, but he was able to walk upright. Bunny had to drop into a posture that looked more like she was stalking something, low to the ground.

They went further like this, Otis’ cough getting increasingly frequent, before they heard muffled voices up ahead. They came to a stop when a wall of rubble greeted them. When the group’s guide coughed again, the voices grew quieter, before getting louder, shouting. _“Is someone there?! Help!”_ Someone called.

They started calling for help, and Otis turned to Edward and Alphonse, “Showtime, boys. That’s Murphy and Carter, the two rescuers, on the other side. Get this roof back where we can pass through the tunnel again.”

Edward nodded, and clapped his hands, pressing them down on the rock wall, as the blue light of a transmutation started up around his white gloved palms, now smeared with black. The collapsed ceiling melted and reformed into two pillars, and two men became visible, staring with wide eyes at their rescuer. They were completely covered with dust, only a few slivers of pale skin visible through the grime. Both of them had blue eyes and hard hats, one with curly blonde hair, and another with mousy brown waves.

The brown-haired man fell to his knees, before giving a hysterical laugh, “We’re saved…by a kid…” He started shedding tears, then, tracks visible in the dust on his face. It seemed as though the strength had left him.

“An alchemist…” The blonde-haired man murmured, before turning and starting to yank on his companion’s arm, “Come on, Murph, we can’t stand here. The ventilation tunnel’s collapsed. We aren’t saved until we’re out of here.”

Otis coughed and walked up to the two, “You found the original cave-in, right? Help us find it. We’ve still got nine people who’ve been stuck down here longer than you.”

“Mr. Otis, you shouldn’t be down here,” The blonde, who must have been Carter, told him, “You’ve got a serious condition, you’re going to kill yourself.” His voice was completely serious.

“My life doesn’t take priority over yours!” Otis snarled, “How many times do I have to tell you, boy, don’t call me ‘Mr.’ Just ‘Otis’ is fine.” He coughed into his shoulder, then.

Murphy and Carter exchanged looks, before turning to Edward, “The main accident’s up ahead.” Murphy managed to dry his tears slightly, or at least, he was no longer crying. He was so smudged with coal dust he would only succeed in irritating his eyes if he tried to rub them.

“Lead the way,” Edward finally had something resembling a confident smile on his face, seeing that he had successfully fixed one tunnel.

Bunny, however, had started softly whining. Something felt _off_, and her tail curled between her legs as she started cowering. She licked her lips and made a quiet howl of alarm, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Bunny, what is it?” Ed asked.

She shook her head.

“What do you mean, _you don’t know?_” He asked, quickly growing frustrated.

There was a rumble, then, and a crashing sound echoed through the shaft in the distance, further down. Carter and Murphy’s heads swiveled as they looked behind them, “…it collapsed again.” Carter concluded, and Otis swore under his breath. “If we’re gonna get them out, we need to hurry, someone might’ve gotten hurt.” They moved further down the tunnel, Murphy carrying the pair’s own lantern.

The group arrived, then, at another blockage, and Bunny whined in a way that said she was upset, before she began pacing side to side in the tunnels, her back scraping on the ceiling, even though she was still crouching. She sensed _agony,_ and could practically smell the distress of those who were trapped on the other side.

_“It hurts! It hurts!”_ Someone was screaming in pain.

Murphy swore, “It caved in on them, someone’s hurt.”

Carter’s hands fisted, “This mine’s a death trap…”

Edward tried to shove them aside, “Move, let me work!” He snapped, before clapping his hands and pressing them to the collapsed area, as he had done previously. This time, three pillars formed, revealing a crowd of men so covered in dust that even their hair color was impossible to determine. They were all gathered around the side of the tunnel, where a man was wailing in agony, his leg pinned by a pile of rubble.

The group of miners seemed so startled, nobody verbally responded when Otis, coughing horribly, charged in and ran up to the man who was pinned. He crouched down and took in the scenario, before spewing curses.

Bunny, this time, moved past Edward and Alphonse, sniffing at his pinned leg. The limb was completely crushed, and when she looked at the coal miner’s face, he was staring up at her with wide eyes, every bit of desperation and fear in his gaze, “A-am I gonna die…?” He whimpered. The chimera sighed and rested her snout in his hair, and a hand reached up and brushed the side of her face, fingers digging into her fur, trembling, and holding on like a lifeline. She snorted into his locks, which reeked of coal, before gently pulling her face away, now smudged with dust, too.

She trotted over to Al, tilted her head, and then looked at Ed, before very deliberately grabbing his left pant leg and tugging. She looked over at the pinned miner, and her gaze returned to Al again.

“Bunny, what…” Ed was not sure what she was trying to communicate, but Al did.

“A tourniquet….he’s…” Alphonse’s voice choked off, pained.

“He’s going to lose his leg?” Edward’s features contorted with something like despair, “No, he doesn’t have to…”

“He does, kid,” Otis finished his own examination, and slowly rose, his face grim. “Leg’s completely crushed. He’ll never walk on it again. We gotta tie it off, and it’ll have to be amputated.” He coughed into his arm again.

“…Thomas…goodness gracious…” One of the men murmured.

The pinned miner—Thomas—started crying, and Bunny felt her heart breaking, all over again. One of the other individuals who had been trapped took off his shirt, and another held out a water canteen that sounded almost empty, before he poured it over the fabric. The man wrung it out, and muddy water came from it. He looked up at Alphonse, offering it, “This is all we’ve got.” He said, “The break area where the first aid kit is…it’s collapsed, too.” His voice was dry and raspy.

Alphonse’s armor rattled, but he took the damp shirt, and went over to Thomas with Bunny in tow, kneeling down and gently slipping the fabric under his thigh. “I’m sorry…” He said, as he began wrapping it as tightly as he could. The miner continued to cry pitifully, gripping a hunk of the chimera’s fur so tight it hurt, a little, but she knew better than to complain. She wished she could do more.

“Alright…” Al stood back, while Ed came forward and clapped his hands, pressing them to the wall. Again, it melted, forming three pillars, and revealing a limb that was twisted wrong, and rapidly turning black, completely misshapen. Otis coughed, but grimaced at the sight, and the miner’s eyes were wide with horror.

“I’ve seen some nasty stuff in my life,” one person said, “But this is up there on the list…”

Ed simply stared at Thomas’ mangled leg, his gaze stricken, as two miners went to lift the injured man up beneath the shoulders, helping him to move.

“Brother,” Al turned to him, “We have to get out of here.”

Edward looked at everyone, his eyes still tormented by something, before Otis walked up and put a hand on his shoulder, “We aren’t safe until we get out of here, son.” The old man told him, trying to offer a reassuring smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “You did what you could, and that’s more than enough. Come on.” Otis hacked a cough, before slowly leading the miners, the wounded Thomas in tow, back up the shaft.

Ed stood still, but Bunny tugged on his cloak, and he followed.

When the large group stepped out of the mineshaft, hissing and wincing as the setting sun burned their eyes after being trapped in the dark for so long, the townspeople of Giribaz cheered. A crowd of people rushed forward, family stopping before coal miners and brushing the dust from their faces to see them more clearly, and enveloping them in crushing, tearful hugs. An older man in a white coat came forward to meet the men who were carrying Thomas, taking one look at his leg and waving them towards a white truck with a red cross painted on the side of it. A woman with copper-tinted hair approached them, and went to ride in the truck with the wounded miner.

Otis came to stand beside Edward, Alphonse, and Bunny as the families reunited, some bringing canteens filled with water, others offering pieces of fruit, which the rescued men took with immense gratitude, wolfing down their portions and drinking as if nothing had tasted better than the simple sustenance they had been given. Ed, though, had fallen silent, watching with a grave expression on his face. Otis seemed to notice, and patted his shoulder, “You alright?” He asked.

“That guy…lost his leg…” Bunny could sense his guilt, then. Ed blamed himself for what had happened, perhaps thinking his attempt to transmute the collapsed tunnels had destabilized the area that had fallen on Thomas.

Otis huffed, at that, “Well, sure, but he’s alive. We have you, your brother, and your dog to thank for that. Now I’m not too fond of State Alchemists…but…you? You’re alright.” He coughed into his sleeve, sounding worse than before. “One man lost a leg, but eleven people came out of that mine, when they could have never come back out.”

Edward looked up at the old man, eyes filled with a multitude of different emotions.

“You’ll do good things, kid.” Otis told him, before clapping him on the shoulder, “Fullmetal Alchemist, huh? Hero of the People?”

Ed gave him a small grin that seemed a little more genuine. It looked like when Bunny smiled, a bit, with teeth showing. Otis must have thought so, too, because he briefly looked between the boy and the chimera, his eyes crinkling with a smile, something like amusement playing across his features. He patted him on the shoulder a second time, before walking off, going to talk with William.

Bunny nudged Edward, and looked over at something, getting him to follow her gaze. One of the miners who had been rescued was smiling, kneeling down, holding a water canteen in one hand, and wrapping arm around Darcy, while a woman who had the same face shape, but different eyes and hair, watched close by, a fond expression on her face. Darcy took after his father, it was obvious, even if one of them had their coloring completely hidden by coal dust.

The train ride back to Irbukya the next morning was on a single car with wooden benches lining the side versus proper booths, given that the train was mostly devoted to coal cargo. Ed, Al, and Bunny were the only passengers on the car, and Bunny curled up in the aisle, while the brothers sat across from each other. Ed was twisted sideways, a stack of paper in front of him, pen held in his left hand, his features tense with concentration.

Mustang would require a report of what had happened in the mining town, the first one of many Edward would write, and he was struggling to figure out what to say. He gritted his teeth, “I don’t understand why this is so difficult! We went into the mine, and got out the miners, one guy lost a leg, what else is there to say?” He fussed.

“I would mention the allegations of improper safety standards,” Bunny spoke from where she was almost falling asleep on the floor, curled against his feet. Her coat was clean and brushed, the curly fur in waves, thanks to the recent grooming. Everyone had been forced to take extra time trying to get coal dust out of their hair and clothing, the night after the rescue, and Bunny was still convinced she could smell it on the brothers, even now. That, or it was stuck in her nose.

“-And the fact that the miners are getting sick, too. Otis seemed really bad.” Alphonse added.

The chimera looked up at him, “You ever hear of Black Lung?” she asked.

The two looked at her, and their blank expressions suggested they had not.

Bunny sighed, “It’s a type of illness that comes from breathing in that coal dust. It gets…caked up in the lungs. It was mentioned in the book Winry gave me that I’m reading right now. It’s occupational. Otis probably has it, or something close to it.”

Ed frowned, then, “That’s…why they kept telling him he shouldn’t have gone with us, isn’t it? He wasn’t supposed to be breathing that stuff.”

“There’s no cure for it. People who have it need to avoid breathing in dangerous particles, and take care of themselves…it’s something medical professionals started looking into, but it’s still dismissed a lot, today, in mines themselves…there’s been a push for people to figure out solutions for it. I didn’t even like _us_ going down there without something covering our faces, but since this isn’t a regular thing, I wasn’t too worried.”

“Yeah, that stuff’s pretty harsh.” Ed winced.

They fell into a quiet silence, as Edward finally began writing.

Alphonse looked at the chimera, “Bunny?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“How did you know the mineshaft was going to collapse?”

“I didn’t…I just…had this weird feeling something was wrong, and it was freaking me out. I only know that when I feel like something is wrong or not right, it usually _isn’t._ I’ve just learned to listen to the little alarm in my head, when I hear it. If that shaft had collapsed fully, though, all nine of those guys would have died. They were really lucky.”

“No argument there,” Ed mused, continuing to write.

“Hey, you want to hear something weird?” Bunny asked.

“Sure,” Ed paused in his writing.

“Sometimes, I think I dream memories of the animals I’m made from.”

Al looked at her, the red points of light in his eyes shifting, “Really?”

“Yeah, at least, that’s what I _think_ they are. I dreamed I was running around through grass blades taller than I was until I hit this invisible barrier, and I had these twitchy whiskers on my face…and then all of a sudden this huge thing that I only realized after I woke up was a _hand _reaches down and grabs me…I was a _mouse_, in my dream, probably captive.”

“Huh, what about the other animals? Ever have dreams about being a bear?” Ed asked, genuinely curious. “What was _that_ like?”

“Bear dreams are this mix of fun and kind of terrifying. I think my bear component was a wild one they caught and tossed in a cage. I have a lot of dreams about running around in rivers chasing salmon.” Her ears lowered, “I also dreamed that I fought over a kill with a pack of wolves, and about digging a burrow…just…bear stuff.”

“That’s kind of cool,” He said, before turning back to his report.

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

Al spoke, then, “I’m surprised you didn’t say anything about it until now.”

The chimera grinned sheepishly, “Talking about animal memories is kind of hard, for me. I spend a lot of time feeling like I have to _prove_ that I’m human, and having those old memories from something that _isn’t_…well…I guess I worry people won’t look at me like a person, if I say I have them.”

“You’re a person, and human, Bunny, no matter what you look like.” Ed told her, half-way done with the page, now that he had actually started writing the report.

The Bunny sighed and closed her eyes, “That means a lot, to me.” She said.

“Then we’ll tell you that, whenever you need to hear it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, modern measures are implemented to ensure the safety of mine workers, but FMA is set in a world where the time period is only just now entering the 1900's, but they have prosthetics like automail. Medical people would definitely know about Black Lung and such, but sometimes, it takes a lot longer to persuade groups to adopt new methods or strategies, even if they're beneficial in the long run.
> 
> Also, Otis is like my crazy uncle that rides around the country on his motorcycle, and he's...eighty something.
> 
> Back to something more fun!
> 
> (Colonel Mustang's office)
> 
> Mustang, holding a report smudged with coal dust: Interesting information, but why is your report covered in coal dust?
> 
> Bunny: It's the ultimate proof we were in a coal mine. We were covered in coal dust, and now, so are you.
> 
> Mustang: ...that would appear to be the case...
> 
> Bunny and Ed: *snickering and tail wags*
> 
> Mustang: You couldn't get it off the paper, could you?
> 
> Bunny: Nope!


	11. Four-Legged Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward, Alphonse, and Bunny return to East City for another report. Kain Fuery has brought another stray into the office. The trio meets the local military police dog handlers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very Bunny-centric, and very dog-centric, in general, but a lot of stuff happens. A certain loyal canine makes his appearance, Mustang is highly confused by dogs and it's all Bunny's fault. A group of delightful OC's appear, because this story needs more dogs and their humans. I hope you guys like it, because I really wanted to have all of this stuff in the chapter. It's very long, due to all of the material.
> 
> Enjoy!

Getting into Mustang’s office for their report on another dead-end lead for the Philosopher’s Stone was interrupted by the sound of seven gunshots ringing out, from the direction of where they were headed. Bunny froze, momentarily, as did Edward and Alphonse, while she lifted her head and sniffed, taking a moment to figure out what on earth was going on. Ed gave her a questioning look, “What do you think _that_ was, Bunny?” He asked. Next to him, Al jolted, aware that she could easily disclose his secret through smell alone. The younger brother had been given no indication that she was aware of it from the beginning, although having known her for two years, he should have at least suspected she knew.

“Well, there’s no unfamiliar people,” She said, since there was nobody anywhere in the hallways to catch her speaking. “I do smell an unfamiliar dog, though. It’s not any of the working ones they bring in here, and it has that puppy smell to it.” Bunny opted not to discuss the cat that she knew Alphonse had picked up and was now hiding in his armor. She had been a stray, too, after all, so while she would not argue to keep the poor creature, she had no objections to sheltering it until the rain stopped, or even finding a home for it. She related to hunger, cold, and homelessness far too well. The points of red light that formed Al’s eyes thinned out in a subtle expression of relief.

“There’s a puppy smell?” Ed asked.

The chimera snorted, “Puppies have sweet-smelling breath.”

“Huh, interesting.”

The went further down the hallway and Edward opened the door, all three peering into the room at the chaos. All of Mustang’s office staff, except for the Colonel himself, who was absent, were staring at Hawkeye with something akin to horror, and Breda was ducking behind a chair. Everyone was watching as the Lieutenant was setting a small black and white puppy down on a pile of newspaper, and there were tell-tale divots in the wall where she had fired a ring of bullets. Bunny noted that there was a small puddle of urine in that spot.

Al was the one who broke the awkward silence that followed when they all turned to look at the new arrivals, “What happened? We heard gunshots.”

Breda, surprisingly, spoke first, tensing up but managing to prevent himself from retreating to the space above the lockers, displaying admirable strength in the face of two creatures that filled him with terror. “Potty training?” He spoke as if he were not sure he should call it that. Even if he had a phobia of dogs, he probably thought threatening an innocent animal at gunpoint was too much. In the past year, he had at least accepted that most dogs were not violent monsters, and was trying to work on getting over his fear.

Kain looked downright horrified, to the point of tears. There was a good chance, given they had met him trying to save a stray kitten, that he was also responsible for bringing in the puppy.

“Welcome back, boys,” Hawkeye turned to look at them, smiling pleasantly. If the puppy had been scared by her use of firearms, he had already gotten over it. He had finished doing his business in the corner the Lieutenant had designated, and was now trotting up to Bunny, pausing and tilting his head curiously. Bunny shifted to the side to let Ed and Al through, before entering the room herself and focusing on the dog. It was inevitable that this would happen. She was a chimera, but a good half of her makeup was canine. Meeting new individuals demanded that a hierarchy be established, and Bunny had to go through the motions, rather than depending on her humanity or size.

For a moment, Bunny and the puppy simply inspected each other visually, and people watched. “This doesn’t look good.” Kain murmured, “She won’t…attack him, will she?”

“What? Nah,” Ed waved a hand dismissively. “Who’s the new dog?”

“Black Hayate, I’ve agreed to keep him.” Hawkeye explained. Unlike the rest of the office, she knew for certain Bunny would not attack her new pet. She would never willingly hurt a puppy; if anything, she was more inclined to protect one. The chimera was additionally capable of teaching dogs who bit too hard how to restrain the force of their jaw. Bunny’s own physical strength was something she constantly had to control, to avoid injuring people or breaking things. Many members of the office failed to realize that she was holding back most of the time. Gestures as small as tapping the soldiers with her paw would actually leave a nasty bruise.

“I don’t know how we’re going to explain the bullet holes in the wall to the Colonel, when he gets back.” Falman said, inspecting the damage.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to tell him outright, huh?” Havoc chimed.

During this conversation, Black Hayate had lowered himself to the floor and rolled onto his back, an act of clear submission. Bunny sat, then, accepting it, and permitting the puppy to approach without fear of being snapped at. She lowered her head and he warily sniffed at her nose; as long as he had a mucosal membrane to inspect, he would probably leave her rear end alone (She _hated_ when dogs tried to sniff there. Bears did not like having their backs turned, and her human feelings about it were obvious). When he was done, he nudged the side of her snout with his, before turning and trotting over to greet Edward and Alphonse, next.

The chimera stood back up and walked to where she usually tried to remain relative to the brothers; positioned right next to them. She sat down again, there, looking around at everyone in the room with a slight tail wag. “See? Nothing to worry about.” Ed nudged Bunny in the side, and she bumped him back in response, the movements subtle and easy for others to ignore. It was an inside joke, a lot of the things people thought she might do, under the impression she was a normal dog. She wagged her tail, and the elder brother grinned.

Havoc turned to Breda, “Well, Heymans? You wanna try to pet the dog today?” He asked.

There was a running bet in the office, how long it would take for Breda to finally overcome his phobia enough to successfully pet Bunny, something nobody had tried to keep hidden from the three. The chimera would let him do it, if he was willing to try—she hated his fear of dogs and hoped that someday he would not respond to her presence with a screech of terror. Being attuned to people’s emotions meant she could _feel_ his anxiety. The officer tensed, briefly, before straightening, staring at her, hard, and swallowing audibly.

“He’s gonna do it…” Al whispered.

Kain hopped in place a little bit excitedly, “You’ve got this, Breda!”

Bunny tilted her head at him as he approached, concluding that holding rigidly still was unnatural, and he needed to work up the nerve to pet her without the chimera behaving strangely. She would not stand up suddenly and walk around, but she would not prevent herself from turning her attention to moving objects in the room, or shifting, in general. Breda came within touching distance, arms drawn in defensively, and took a steeling breath, before reaching out a hand, palm-down. He tensed, then, holding it up high, above Bunny’s head, and hesitating.

“Well?” Ed asked, “You haven’t done it yet.” After he had gotten over his initial annoyance at how Breda responded to her presence, Edward had calmed down sufficiently that he was able to form a somewhat decent relationship with the officer. Breda never seemed to be any emotion other than terrified, since the brothers’ presence was synonymous with the chimera’s, but it was perhaps _because_ it was a serious phobia that Ed was so lenient. Phobias were irrational, and the Second Lieutenant had been making an active effort to overcome his, after Mustang had bluntly told him he was _not_ banning Bunny from the office.

“You don’t hold back, do you, chief?” He asked, forcing a grin, joking to mask his obvious nerves.

“She’s being still for you,” Ed replied, “Come on, this is the closest you’ve ever gotten.”

Shakily, breaking out in a cold sweat, Breda withdrew for a moment, before taking another, steadying breath, and resting his hand on Bunny’s head. _Finally_, after a _full year_, he had done it. He quickly withdrew his hand as though he had been burned, but the chimera wore a canine grin on her features and wagged her tail at him, even as he retreated. Breda, himself, laughed hysterically, a strange mix of delight and relief.

“You did it!” Havoc exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Breda’s shoulders.

“I thought I was going to have a heart attack,” He said, relieved.

“Mustang owes me money,” Falman murmured, “I said you’d manage after about a year. He bet longer.” _How mean_, Bunny thought.

“Too bad he wasn’t here to witness that moment, himself.” Havoc commented, “He was in here just before you guys showed up,” He looked at the brothers, “And then he left to go do something.”

“His loss,” Ed shrugged, grinning, before turning to Breda, “Hey, you managed to pet Bunny, that’s awesome progress.”

The moment was then promptly ruined by Breda shrieking when Black Hayate tried to jump up on his leg, and he ducked behind Kain while the puppy stared at him with his head tilted to one side, perplexed. He whined questioningly, until Hawkeye went over and scooped him up in her arms, “Well done, Second Lieutenant. You’ll have to try to get used to Black Hayate, as well, though. There’s a good chance you’ll see him again.”

Breda grinned weakly, “I got through the worst part, right?” He turned to the brothers, “I can see why you named her Bunny, though. It didn’t make sense, at first, but her fur’s ridiculously soft.”

Ed chuckled at that, “Al’s the one who picked her name. I would have gone with Wolf or Bear, but…well, people back home didn’t think they sounded like girl names, and she’s really not scary, once you know her.”

Havoc frowned, “Well, I thought it was a really misleading name at first, but…yeah, she’s not a scary dog.”  
  
Al laughed a little, “Only when there’s a bad guy, right?” He looked at Bunny, who gave a small howl in response. The past year had been filled with reports of the chimera assisting the brothers in their missions, and sometimes, being the primary reason that petty thieves or criminals were captured. She was sweet and friendly, that much people knew for certain, but she was far from harmless. Plenty of particularly violent individuals found themselves in the hospital on antibiotic treatment to prevent infections due to dog bites. Bunny seldom used her claws, and generally, once she had people on the ground, she only had to pin their arms and legs with her weight so they could not struggle free. Snarling right in their faces was sufficient to make most people give up immediately. A lot of people thought Edward and Alphonse had trained her for suspect apprehension.

Falman smiled, “You two and your dog.” He said, shaking his head slightly.

A quiet mewing sound caught Ed and Bunny’s attention, and Edward shot Al a glare, before turning back to Hawkeye, who was in charge of the office while Mustang was gone, “We’ll be back in a bit, I still have to make my report, but there’s something we need to go take care of, first.” With that, he turned, grabbing Al’s hand and leading him out of the office, Bunny following and standing on her hind legs to shut the door behind them as they went. From there, she proceeded down the hallway, where the brothers had knelt on the floor, and the younger brother had opened the breastplate of his armor, revealing a small orange tabby.

“You picked up another cat?” Ed asked, stroking between its ears and earning a quiet purr for his troubles. Al had a history of trying to rescue stray cats; if he had the choice, he would probably have a small army of them. It was no surprise he was skilled with handling the felines, as a result, and they were one of the few things he would readily store inside his armor. Al would open it to get food out if he was forced to pretend-eat, but otherwise, hated the reminder that his body was a hollow cavity. A thin curtain of chain mail hung inside of it, hiding the emptiness, somewhat, but not fooling anyone who saw into believing there was a person.

“He was cold and hungry, he called to me. Can’t we keep him?” Al asked, his voice sweet and innocent. While soon after turning thirteen, Ed’s voice had broken and was starting to become deeper, Alphonse’s had remained childlike. He was twelve, still, and only time would tell if, even inside armor, the younger sibling’s voice started to change. Bunny desperately hoped it _would_, because thinking of Al being frozen in time due to his lack of a body was horrifying and painful. Bunny’s own voice, however subtle, seemed to be changing, too, developing a richer note to it, which she found strange, given her fused state. The growling resonance never left it, but it sounded less horrible, less _warped_, than it had been before.

“Al, you know we can’t afford to look after a cat, not with the way we travel.” Ed then turned to look at Bunny, who had come up next to the suit of armor, “Bunny, there’s no way you didn’t notice he had a cat. You would have smelled it right away. Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked earnestly.

Bunny sighed, “I was in the same situation, when I met you.”

Ed winced, at that, perhaps recalling the filthy giant dog that had wandered up to him and his brother in the graveyard, trying to wash off the dirt and grime and feeling ribs that seemed a little too prominent under her coat. Bunny had shown up in their lives no differently than the cat had; hungry and at the mercy of the elements. The older brother sighed, “Alright…we can give it something to eat, and try to find it a home…but that’s the best we can do.”

Al’s response was with a voice so touched Bunny’s heart broke, a little, “You’re the best, brother.”

“Don’t put it back in your armor, though, Al. It’s too hard to explain how a cat and a person can both fit in here.”

The quiet noise that came from the younger sibling told Bunny he would have blushed slightly, at that, but Edward was ultimately right. If a human being was wearing the armor, there would be nowhere for a cat to comfortably stay. Al gently lifted the cat with one hand, and closed the front of his armor with the other, standing back up and cradling the creature in his arms, where it continued to purr contentedly.

“Well, let’s go find the Colonel.” Ed decided, turning to Bunny, “You’ve got his scent memorized by now, right?”

The chimera wagged her tail, “Of course.”

Roy Mustang loved dogs. He honestly thought they were the perfect example of what a soldier could be. They were loyal, hardworking, and did not require a paycheck. They would never complain, even if you treated them badly…at least, that was what he once thought, until a certain chimera had entered the picture and severely confused his viewpoint on animals kept as pets, in general, especially dogs. He now had reason to believe that the only reason canines did not complain was firstly, because they _could not speak_, and secondly, because they did not have any choice. Bunny’s presence in the Colonel’s life had made him seriously reflect just what it meant, to claim that a dog was a human’s slave.

In snatches of conversation that occurred without the Elric brothers present, which were rare, Bunny discussed things that she was not comfortable talking about with the siblings, usually because the subject matter was a more adult topic. She had claimed, once, that she despised when people tried to pet her without permission, especially children, because some of them were never taught to treat animals with respect, and would painfully yank at her fur. In other cases—something that made the trained gentleman Mustang had been raised to be cringe—people would pet her flank or back legs, which actually left her feeling violated, at the end of the day. When asked why she did not simply bare her teeth at them and bark, she had answered, _“Because then I would be an aggressive dog. They would act like Ed and Al were bad pet owners, and make them put a muzzle on me.”_

A _muzzle_, like the _dog_ was the one at fault. It was then that Mustang understood that dogs never reacted with aggression, because it had been both selectively bred out of them, and because they would be punished for it. When Fuery had brought a puppy into the office, the Colonel had stared at it, and made up an excuse to leave, because the cognitive dissonance he felt was too strong for him to act normally around it. It was a normal dog, but how on earth was he supposed to treat the creature? Respond like it was precious and delightful? People would wonder if he overdid it, why he did not respond that way to Bunny. Leaving feigned indifference, and then it would be fine.

So now, Mustang sat in East Command’s conference room, actually doing paperwork, for a change, because his mind was too restless for him to try and take a nap like he normally would, and he needed a distraction. He had never actually told his team where he was going, they would have no idea that he was simply on the other side of the building.

He looked up as the door to the room clicked and a familiar canine figure appeared. So Fullmetal was back from investigating his latest lead on the Philosopher’s Stone? A part of Mustang quietly pondered if, in addition to restoring their bodies, they wanted to find a way to give Bunny back her human form. The chimera seemed to care little for trying to help herself, like she cared for the brothers. Perhaps, given how intricate it was to fuse together multiple creatures, she thought it was too risky. Maybe she did not even believe, herself, that it was possible to go back to normal. The Colonel could not help how his stomach twisted into a knot, at that thought. He was using all three children for the sake of rising through the ranks, he could not afford to become too emotionally involved, but he knew that what had happened to Bunny was not fair; while the Elric brothers suffered due to their own mistake, the chimera was a victim. While the siblings had not abandoned hope for restoring themselves, it seemed like Bunny _had._

The three filed into the room, Alphonse closing the door behind him, and holding an orange tabby with his other arm. Fullmetal was the first to speak, “So this is where you were, Colonel halfwit.” His words dripped with contempt.

‘Colonel halfwit’ seemed to be Fullmetal’s nickname for Mustang—something he suspected was a form of self-censorship, compared to the initial title he had been given a year ago, that Alphonse and Bunny both had protested, on the grounds that it was profane. He did not use it constantly, but it was a good indicator that he was feeling particularly vindictive.

“Fullmetal, I couldn’t see you past the paperwork.” He responded calmly, watching as the teen’s lips curled back and bared his teeth in a snarl, eyes flashing with anger.

_“Who are you calling so small he gets lost in a carpet!?”_ He snapped, notably, not attacking, which he seemed to rule as off-limits, and wisely. He would shout back and argue, but Fullmetal never resorted to physical violence with Mustang, though he suspected from the way that Bunny and Alphonse often reacted, he usually did.

Al sighed, looking up as if he were praying for strength.

“Breda worked up the courage to pet me today, so you owe Falman whatever it was you bet.” Bunny helpfully chimed, ignoring that it was an abrupt subject change, and wearing that eerie, threatening smile that said she had no interest in watching an insult match today.

Great, he owed 2,500 cenz. Sighing, Mustang waved for them to come in and sit down, “Find anything that might help you get your bodies back?”

Fullmetal huffed and walked over to one of the couches, plopping down and staring up at the ceiling, while his brother took the opposite sofa, “Another false lead. It was a glass marble with some fancy elements that made it glow.” He looked particularly frustrated by that. Miracles could sometimes be attributed to a unique form of alchemy, but for an alleged fake stone to be nothing more than a fancy bauble that could have been used for jewelry, that was particularly disheartening.

“The written version?” Mustang asked.

He sighed like it was a pain, but withdrew a folded set of notes from his pocket, and unfolded them, “It’s a bit smudged up, but it was pretty uneventful this time. Mostly just a huge disappointment.” He got up and walked over to the desk, dropping the stack in front of him. “Any new leads or assignments?” the teen asked.

“I’m afraid not,” The Colonel took the papers and glanced over them—out of all the subordinates Mustang had, Fullmetal’s work was the most legible. It was worthy of receiving compliments, how perfect his handwriting was, especially with the knowledge that he was using his non-dominant hand. There was dust from a clay road covering the pages, and a few spots where ink was running, as if the paper had gotten wet in spots by accident. He looked up at Bunny, “While I don’t have anything relating to the Philosopher’s Stone or a formal assignment, there was a request we got for Fullmetal, and it involves you. It’s nothing serious, but you might be interested in hearing about it.”

“Huh?” The two straightened a bit.

“The local law enforcement wanted to challenge you to a police dog training test.” Mustang smirked, “Seems you’ve built up enough fame as a civilian dog, they want to see how good your skills hold up against their own teams. I think a lot of my office, myself included, would be interested in seeing you in action.” No matter how Bunny did, even if she proved inferior to the actual police dogs, she would likely do well enough that it would entertain the audience. Positive attention for his subordinates was good for Mustang, as well. If he could persuade them to do it, and wait a few days, people from Central, too, might even travel to watch.

Bunny tilted her head, looking at the Colonel with that knowing expression that continued to make him nervous, at times. As far as he could tell, no matter how much he tried to guard his expressions, something was slipping, because the chimera was catching it. “I’ll do it if Ed wants to. They aren’t going to ask me to jump into cars and come out through the windows, though, right? Because I’ll automatically fail if they make that part of the test. I’m too big for that.” He had a feeling she already knew why he wanted them to do it, but was deciding it was not worth arguing about.

That _was_ something police dogs did, jumping into car windows. “If you agree, I’ll let them know.” He looked over at Fullmetal, “Well? Sound like something you’d be willing to stick around East City for?” He smirked, “Or are you not confident enough you can best the competition?”

“We can do it,” Fullmetal stood back up from where he had been sitting, “Name the time and we’ll be here.”

_Three days later…_

As a human, Bunny had hated crowds, but becoming a chimera that looked like a dog, the worst she felt was mild discomfort at them staring. The parade grounds of East Command were spacious, giant tiles, and an obstacle course had been set up, similar to what was used to train police dogs. It contained walls to jump over, stacks of heavy barrels to climb, and even a gigantic tank—she had no idea _how_ they got that there, but she was sure alchemy was involved—filled with water, not so deep that a handler would have to swim, but enough to deter dogs that hated getting wet.

Hidden behind a large wooden wall, placed to prevent people from seeing what was being done on the other side, there were fake rooms set up with items, to replicate scent-finding missions. Although the chimera was familiar with the smell of dynamite and explosives (Illegal, so nobody would mention it), a more acceptable scent she could train with was anise oil, and she had spent time learning to identify it. Edward and Alphonse had notified the proctors, so that the items she was meant to locate would have the scent she knew to look for. Even from the starting area, Bunny could detect them.

There was a resting area where four police dogs remained with their handlers. Three of them had gone already, while the final one would run throughout the course after Bunny and Ed. There were two Optain Malinois, one Amestrian Shepherd, and a Rottweiler. All the dogs were able to complete the obstacle course in less than three minutes. Ed had expressed a desire to match their times, or even beat them. Five minutes were given to find the items in the scent area, independent of the obstacle portion. Rather than wearing uniforms, these military police wore plain T-shirts and jeans. Edward had removed his red cloak, but retained his smaller undercoat, to cover up any scarring or metal from his automail arm.

The crowd of spectators—a large number of military personnel and their families, although Bunny was able to pick out Colonel Mustang and his staff—were behind concrete barriers that had been temporarily set up. This would be the first time any of them saw how the chimera worked, specifically with Ed. She stood next to him on the starting pad, eyes fixed forward on the obstacle course, ears pricked and alert. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, who acted as the announcer, had declared her to be the calmest competitor, thus far. He was covered in bandages, after an accident involving a large board with a photograph of his two daughters, Elicia still a baby.

“And now! I’ve got the stopwatch ready!” Ed shifted into a position to start running, and Bunny had no need to. She could break into a fast run from a resting position, the way her paws were shaped. They waited for Hughes’ signal. “Go!”

“Come on Bunny!” Ed shouted behind him, and she followed. “Let’s show ‘em what we’re made of!”

Expectedly, the course gave them no trouble at all. Bunny was tall enough that she barely had to jump at all, to clear the first wall, and her legs were sufficiently strong to clear the second. The third was taller, still, but with the momentum of her already moving, it was easy for her to scramble the rest of the way. Right alongside her, physically conditioned enough that he was capable of doing so, Ed vaulted over the same barriers the chimera did, and the crowd loved it. The humans doing the same things as their companions was an excellent show of team spirit, considering it was not even required. Together, they went over a tall stack of barrels, pace barely slowing for anything.

“Less than a minute and they’re already almost done with the obstacle course! I think first place dog Bard is in trouble!” Hughes called. “Let me remind you people in the crowd; Bunny is not a police dog! She’s civilian-trained!”

Of course, Bunny had thought that the trained dogs would do better than her, if she was honest. She was realizing, now, that her intelligence was giving her an unfair advantage. Police dog training was based on reward and instinctive triggers. Bunny still retained certain instincts, but was also guided by her intellect, which told her to keep going through the obstacle course, as well as the fact that everything was _safe._ The slowest dog had become nervous when she was faced with the barrels and the water pool. The one thing the police dogs would beat Bunny at was not part of the test, because the chimera could not feasibly enter into cars through their windows.

She had no intentions of doing worse just to be generous towards her competitors, but a part of Bunny felt bad, knowing just how much time and effort it took to train her opponents. Daily training, not every other day, not a few minutes where they had time. What worked for Bunny’s training would never work for a normal dog.

Even so, she was going to _enjoy_ herself, doing this stuff, because she was good at it.

The duo got a running start before going up the provided ramp and jumping into the pool of water, the chimera actually landing ahead of the human, a good two-thirds of the length already cleared. She crossed to the other side and turned around, waiting for him to wade through and climb out. When he finally did, he was sopping wet—Winry would have been upset, there was no way Ed would change into dry clothes with people watching, so his automail was going to stay damp for a while. Once they were out, they went over to a platform, officially completing the obstacle course section of the training test.

“A minute and twenty-seven seconds! A one-second difference puts our underdog team in first place!” Hughes called.

Ed laughed, then, openly, and shoved Bunny in the shoulder. She bumped him back, before they went over to the rest area, being greeted by the four military police officers, as the Rottweiler handler got up, “Looks like it’s our turn!” She shouted as she left, “That was great, you two!” The woman was shorter with a heavier frame, with black hair and green eyes, freckles adorning her face.

Hughes announced the officer as she went up to start her own run of the course, “Next up is our final competing team, Officer Barbara Morane, and her Rottweiler, Ranger! This team has been working together for three years!” He proceeded to list off an impressive number of criminal apprehensions, higher than any of the other dogs.

The other three who remained, also sopping wet, because they did not want to miss out on seeing everyone’s performance, congratulated the duo as they went to their rest spot. “That was awesome, Major,” Officer Kate Nieuport, the handler of the male Optain Malinois, Paladin, spoke with awe. She was a young woman with short blonde hair and blue eyes, and a small scar tracing under her left eye, that she had claimed came from a gunshot that grazed her.

Ed blinked at her, not quite sure how to respond to being called by his military rank, before grinning at her in that toothy way that Bunny was thoroughly convinced was her fault. She wagged her tail at the other dogs and officers, though, regardless. She instinctively liked _all_ of the dog handlers, as far as she could tell. “Thanks,” Ed responded, “Paladin was pretty awesome, too.” And he was. The third-place dog, behind Bard and Bunny, but with a sweet disposition outside of working conditions.

“The water gets us every time. How did you people get your dogs to go into the water without freaking out?” James Koolhoven lamented, the handler of the female Amestrian Shepherd, Mystic, and the only male handler aside from Edward. He had short brown hair and grey eyes, with softer, rounded facial features. Because Mystic had panicked at the prospect of jumping into the water pool, James had eventually been forced to pick her up and carry her across; something that was permitted after a certain amount of time elapsed, and expected, even. Officers were supposed to carry their dogs if they could not cross something on their own (Or, if you were Ed or Al Elric, you transmuted something, because Bunny was physically too big to be picked up).

“You’ll just have to train Mystic with water, more.” Officer Jessica Dassault responded. She was the handler of the now-second-place female Optain Malinois, Bard. A woman with sharp, angular cheekbones and hazel eyes, blonde hair done in a ponytail. She radiated a gentle aura that starkly contradicted her severe appearance.

“Brother, Bunny, you did really well!” Alphonse ran up, no longer holding the little orange tabby that had been in the group’s care for the past three days. Ed noticed immediately.

“Where’s the cat, Al? Did you find an owner for him in the crowd?”

Al nodded, humming in confirmation.

“Well, I’m glad.”

“This is your brother, Major?” James looked at Al, “I can see why people get you two mixed up, given the title. Why the suit of armor?”

Al shifted nervously, “A hobby…” He laughed slightly. All three of the officers blinked, perplexed.

As it turned out, the real first-place dog was Ranger, beating Bunny by three seconds, at least in the obstacle course. Just like Edward, Barbara cleared the obstacles, right alongside her partner.

The chimera was ultimately happy, with how the results turned out.

From the crowd, which had been forced to move to the other side of the ring that had been made by concrete barriers to watch the scent-finding portion of the training test, Mustang had finally been able to witness what made Fullmetal, Alphonse, and Bunny a formidable team. Except for Ranger’s handler, who, despite being slightly heavier, was able to flawlessly jump over all the barriers in the obstacle course, no other teams aside from the Colonel’s subordinate had the handlers doing the same things as their canine partner. There was an obvious energy of teamwork and camaraderie in all of the teams, but they were strongest with Officer Barbara and Fullmetal, with Ranger and Bunny. What Mustang could see from that brief demonstration, was that the teen and chimera actually found running the obstacle course to be _fun_, but so did everyone else.

This was probably the happiest challenge Mustang had ever seen. Even the dog and handler that came out last, James and Mystic, seemed to be enjoying themselves, animatedly talking with teammates while they waited their turns, and including Fullmetal and Alphonse easily. Bunny, meanwhile, was either sitting by the brother’s side, or quietly exchanging some form of nonverbal communication with the regular dogs. She seemed to gravitate towards Bard, out of the group of dogs present.

For the scent-finding test, three mock-rooms had been set up, scented with things the dogs and Bunny had been trained on. Five minutes were given for a dog to find all the items, and they would be timed to see who could work the fastest. Since it was not possible to tell the audience what the dog was supposed to locate, there was a judging area hidden from the waiting area of the dog owners, where a dog trainer would notify the handler if the dog selected items correctly. One false room was similar to the living room of a house, another resembled a bedroom, and another was a mock-office.

Mystic got to go first, being dead-last in the first part of the competition, finding all items within a minute and thirty-two seconds. Whenever the dog would locate an item, she would promptly look at her handler and sit down. James would then pick up the offending object and bring it to the judge, before leaving to find the remaining objects.

Second to go was Paladin, who also found both items, within two minutes and ten seconds. Third was Bard, who successfully stole second place from Paladin, by a five-second difference. Unlike the first two dogs who sat, Bard would aggressively pull at objects she located.

Then it was Bunny’s turn.

“Alright, people, so next up are Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and underdog Bunny! Bunny’s scent training is different from the police dogs! The other dogs are all trained with narcotics, and Bunny is trained using anise oil, so her objects are scented with that instead!” Maes announced. He was doing a pretty excellent job for presenting things, considering he did not even have a script or notecard to prevent him from messing up names. The only hiccup was the poster falling on him, although he should have known better than to bring up his daughters during an occasion like this.

Fullmetal and Bunny took their spot on the starting pad, until Maes announced the start of the clock.

Bunny did not seem to search the rooms at all. She practically made a _beeline_ for the objects, poking them with her nose and looking directly at Fullmetal, who would grab the item and run back to place them on the judges’ desk with her, before moving onto the next room. She did this for the first room, and the second, and the third.

The team finished in less than a minute. In hindsight, Mustang should not have been surprised. When the Elric brothers and Bunny had first been introduced to his office team, the chimera had brought Falman a pen from his desk. Finding a pen was not difficult for a person, but identifying whose desk was whose, that was a scent-finding action.

As if to make up for their skill in the first test, Ranger took a full four minutes to complete the scent-finding portion, placing the Rottweiler last.

Edward came out of the showers wearing a dry change of clothing, while Alphonse offered him back his cloak. To prevent people from catching him trying to peel off his wet garments, and potentially seeing his automail, he had waited for everyone else to leave before trying to change. Bunny had waited outside the showers with Alphonse, granting the elder sibling privacy. When they came back outside into the parade grounds, though, they were greeted by the remnants of a dissipating crowd, the four MP’s that Ed and Bunny had competed against, Mustang, and Hughes. The proctor for the scent-finding test stood in the distance, now wearing a padded suit.

“Took you long enough to come back out,” Mustang mused, “They wanted to see your subject apprehension. A small amount of the crowd stayed behind to watch.” Of course it took Ed awhile to shower; he had to get his automail dry. The four police dogs, Bard, Mystic, Ranger, and Paladin were all leaping at the end of now-attached leads, eagerly looking at the man in the suit, no doubt something they associated with training. For all of the people Bunny had bitten, she had never actually seen a dog-training suit before. It looked hard to walk in.

“So, it’s pretty easy for this, really, which is why it’s not being judged,” James said, trying to settle Mystic a bit, who was yanking his arm really hard. “How does Bunny tackle people, and does she release quickly and come back when you call her?”

“We’ve already gone, but as you can see, our dogs all really like this part of training.” Jessica commented.

“Uh, yeah…they really look like they want to go after the proctor again.” Alphonse said nervously, not having expected to see the welcome party, any more than Ed or Bunny, “You guys know Bunny weighs a lot more than most dogs, right? Like…she might knock him over.” She _tried_ to knock people over. Being on the ground was a very bad situation for humans. A position hard to defend against, but perfect for a chimera wanting to restrain them.

Ed looked at Bunny, whose ears twitched, “Well, I can tell her to go after him.”

“Well, tell her to go after him, then.” Kate chimed.

“Your dog is probably the calmest one I’ve ever seen when it spots a guy in a padded suit. She’s looking at him, but she’s not going crazy like ours are.” Barbara—Barb for short—noted. “She’s like, ‘Oh, I’m surrounded by weirdos.’”

Hughes coughed, like he was trying to mask laughter.

“Fine,” Ed sighed, and looked at Bunny, “Go get ‘em.”

The chimera bolted from her spot, startling everyone back, including the Colonel. The chimera had something called ‘hare paw’, which was basically a sort of morphology term used for dog feet. It was likely the result of human influence lengthening her digits somewhat, but certain breeds, namely sighthounds like whippets or greyhounds, had lengthened toes, especially the middle two on their paw. The length of their paws meant they might use a bit more energy when they walked, but it also granted a springier step, and meant that they were capable of accelerating from a resting position much faster than the ‘cat paws’ of other dogs permitted.

Bunny cleared the distance and leapt, hitting the proctor full force in the chest. Even with the protection, it knocked the air from his lungs and sent him falling backwards. Bunny wasted no time in sinking her teeth into the fabric padding of the suit’s leg, and pulling, dragging him backwards and shaking at odd intervals, until she heard Alphonse call her back, “Bunny! Let him go!”

Immediately, the chimera released his leg and hurriedly backed away, before turning and running back to sit in front of the brothers, flicking an ear and tilting her head slightly.

“Good job,” Ed told her.

Barb smiled, “As the handler with the highest number of apprehensions in my department, I’d say Bunny’s a pretty good attack dog. Immediate obedience of commands, even releasing. A lot of dogs don’t want to let go once they’ve grabbed on, but getting your canine to release is important. If someone’s got a weapon and your dog is occupied with a bite, you need to make sure they’ll let go immediately and get away. That’s exactly what Bunny did.”

“So…is that all?” Ed was asking.

“Yep!” James told him, “Major, for a civilian-trained dog, you’ve done a really good job. I’ve never seen a dog do _scent-finding_ as fast as Bunny does, though.”

Al laughed nervously. Nobody could say that the reason the chimera did so well was because her nose was about seven times stronger than a _bloodhound_. Bears had the strongest sense of smell of any known creature, over two thousand times stronger than a human. Bunny could detect things upwind, and within an enormous amount of distance. She could find them if they were buried or underwater, even, to some extent. Bears were awesome, the chimera could not help but think. Being _part_ bear meant she had a far greater appreciation of their abilities. There was more to them than physical strength—though that was nice, too.

Ed gave a slightly tense grin, “Bunny’s always been good at locating stuff.”

Alphonse placed a hand on Ed’s shoulder, “It’s great for finding brother, since he always runs off and gets into trouble.”

Ed whirled around and glared at him in mock-anger, “Traitor,” He declared, before noticing that Bunny was wagging her tail, “You too, Bunny. You’re _both_ traitors.”

“That sounds like a story,” Hughes said.

Bunny gave a small howl that could be loosely interpreted as agreement, and all of the dog handlers laughed.

She liked these people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Military Police dog handlers are all named after French fighter planes, and the dogs are named after Dungeons and Dragons character classes (Mystic is a Monk). Depending on plot, some of them may reappear in the future.
> 
> (In Central)
> 
> ...? : I'm surprised you didn't go watch. That's our sacrifice's pet, after all.
> 
> Bradley: Dogs and other animals tend to recognize our kind. Too risky.
> 
> ...? : Well this is gonna be a problem. Couldn't you just say they did a bad job training them?
> 
> Bradley: If all of the dogs present are growling at me, is it still poor training, or a warning?


	12. A City Where Music Plays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunny creates a powerful array unintentionally, and the trio stops a group of jewelry thieves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If people were reading my start and end notes for the past chapters, this is the one where Bunny officially discovers a form of alchemy that will lead to her being marked as a sacrifice candidate. In an effort to be realistic, most State Alchemists in FMA, while aware of many different arrays with multiple uses, do not have the benefit of being able to clap their hands like Edward, or the ability to draw a working array as fast as Alphonse can using chalk. Bunny does, at this point, have a charcoal claw tip, but her array drawing is still much slower, and artist or not, that lack of speed costs her in a fight.
> 
> This in mind, Bunny will develop two main arrays in this story that have heavy plot relevance. A strong combat-oriented array that can be used for non-combat purposes as well, and a healing array that will actually be very weak and drain a lot of her strength (She does not know Alkahestry, which affects her array's effectiveness). Even with these arrays, however, I must emphasize that alchemy is not going to be her primary weapon over her teeth and claws, because using it comes with the risk of discovery. Animals do not have the power to perform transmutations, so people will immediately think something is abnormal if she does them. Bunny will, however, in very desperate situations, use alchemy to catch foes off-guard or augment the situation in her and the boys' favor, a bit. Her usage is going to be largely more strategic in nature.
> 
> Also, I picked Bunny's array after careful thought and consideration. She does actually have an overlapping array, a bit, with another FMA character, though they are minor, and their usage is completely different. I just think that this form of alchemy never got to shine like it could have in the original story, so I decided to make it Bunny's array. I think it is also a funny thing, that you can discover something really interesting by pure accident, even if you were not actively seeking it. This is actually something that will aggravate many State Alchemists, if they knew how she developed the array. It will especially bother Mustang, and also, I picked the array partly to mess with him, a bit more. You may or may not be able to guess what Bunny's array does, based on that statement alone.
> 
> This chapter takes place about two weeks after Four-Legged Friends. I do not own FMA or the characters, but other than that, everything is my own imagination. This chapter is a bit more serious, but I try to put some funny stuff in there and end on a positive note.

When you were camping in the middle of nowhere, especially in a forest clearing, you should be prepared for anything. Predators like bears or wolves could appear, and larger fauna like deer or wild hogs could be equally dangerous. Alphonse, being a soul bound in armor, meant they had the benefit of a constant lookout, but even so, Edward’s first impulse was to transmute the steel on his automail arm into a blade, when he found himself woken up by a torrent of freezing-cold water. Seeing no threat, though, he turned to find his brother staring, seemingly startled. Bunny, meanwhile, was standing next to a set of scratches in the dirt he could make out as an array, wearing an expression of apology and embarrassment.

Ed groaned in frustration, and stepped off the now-soaked little makeshift wooden platform he had been sleeping on, eyeing his drenched sleeping bag with distain. His clothing clung to his frame, his hair not much better, dripping wet with what must have been groundwater; there was no lake or river anywhere near their camp where it could have come from. Clapping his hands, Ed morphed the blade on his forearm back to its original shape, before turning to Bunny, “What was _that?”_

The chimera forced a laugh, probably to settle her nerves. She never laughed for real unless she was wagging her tail, “Sorry Ed…I was experimenting with my wound-healing array ideas…and I made a breakthrough…sort of…kind of…by accident?” Bunny’s grin was filled with regret, “I thought this one might seal up the cuts I got on my leg from that bramble patch earlier…and instead I somehow drew up water from the ground and…_launched_ it at you…It didn’t feel like it was affecting the wound, it was pulling at something else…I probably…shouldn’t have gone after it…”

“I’ve never seen an array make water behave like that before.” Al suddenly seemed excited, his shock at the transmutation wearing off, “Bunny, you discovered a _water manipulation_ array, and it _works!”_ There was something very much like awe in his voice. Ed could not share his enthusiasm, unfortunately, because his teeth were starting to chatter from the cold as he went to unzip their suitcase and pull out a change of clothes. Under any other circumstance, he would have been thrilled, right alongside his brother. He still would be, once he was mostly dry and no longer having to deal with the heat from his body being sapped away by what he was wearing.

“It was not my intention to douse sleeping people,” The chimera squeaked, not sure how to take Al’s joy. She seemed more concerned that she had accidentally lost control of the water.

Ed spoke up again, shivering, “Don’t worry about it, Bunny. I’ll come take a look at the array after I change, it’ll only be a minute,” he commented, irritation already gone. He took the bundle of clothing he had collected and made for the tree line to go hide behind some bushes.

If anyone was going to accidentally figure out a powerful array that controlled water, he should have figured it would be the chimera. She had what seemed to be a natural affinity for matter in a liquid state, her ink-drawing being based around oil, and later, when she swapped the alchemical symbol for oil with water, paint. She had taken it further, messing with fixatives and figuring out harder things like pastels, where materials changed based on color. Subtle tweaking of arrays was an art form, in itself, as much as it was a science, and Bunny’s artistic attention to detail meant she had picked up the capability to modify arrays very quickly. A lot of people who had spent decades learning how to do it would be horrified if they knew they had been beaten by a teenager.

These things aside, if anyone other than Bunny had said they had made an array work because of something they did not fully understand, Ed would have been tempted to laugh. Most alchemists swore by the concept that alchemy required a perfect understanding of the materials you worked with, but the chimera had just done something completely blind, it seemed.

He finished getting changed and picked up his wet clothes, before heading back into the clearing, setting them down near the fire to dry. He went to the suitcase and got a dry towel from it, proceeding to rub his hair, before walking over to his brother and Bunny, to see the array the chimera had drawn.

“I mostly used traditional symbols, but then I included something that’s more obscure. I was hoping it would make the thing function, and it _did_…except…” Bunny drifted off.

Al completed it for her, “It didn’t work exactly how you thought it would...” He straightened, “But that’s okay! Strong elemental arrays are really rare and hard to design. Even if it’s just by accident, it’s amazing that you did it! You can use this for all sorts of stuff.”

Alchemy usually had specific glyphs used for elements and such, but based on the needs of an alchemist, obscure symbols and text could be used, such as pictographs or the lines of a poem, even. Ideally, only the person who created the array knew what they meant, and it was an excellent way to make an array work if the traditional symbol would not fit, or to make it harder to copy due to a lack of understanding.

Ed leaned over the drawing in the dirt to look at Bunny’s work. A circle as the base, with a line drawn horizontally across, dividing it in half. The bottom portion of the circle had more straight lines, three, one down the center and one on each side. There was an upside-down triangle across the lined half of the circle, with a horizontal line drawn across the lower tip, connecting to the two side bars. Ed recognized it as the alchemical symbol for an earth array. A matching triangle was in the upper portion of the circle, but with no line, symbolizing water. On either side of the water triangle were pyramids with lines across their tips, representing air.

The bottom tip of the water symbol intersected the array’s center, and connected at the edges of the circle, leaving a sliver of space above it. Inside the water triangle, Ed spotted the obscure thing Bunny had mentioned: A diamond at the top of the triangle, with a rectangle coming from the bottom, ending in a point like an arrow. There was a dot inside the diamond, and three in the body. Two diagonal lines went past the triangle to connect to the edges of the circle, seemingly coming from the top of the diamond.

“You’re getting pretty good at making arrays, if you’re using stuff like this and it worked.” He breathed, “This is something people wouldn’t be able to copy. You could carry this in the open and other alchemists would be confused, even if they saw what you used it for.”

Bunny cracked a grin, at that, “The water flew up into the sky before it hit you, so…maybe for the best. The safer version can be one that just draws up groundwater, nothing flashy. You know, it’ll come in handy if people need a new well, or something.” Her gaze drifted to the drenched platform and sleeping bag, “You can steal my blanket, if you want. I got a fur coat, I’m not the one who’s going to freeze to death.”

Ed tried to shove her, only to receive a bump that had him almost stumble back a step. The chimera was so heavy that a friendly push would never succeed in moving her or throwing her off-balance. It took a decent amount of force for her to get hurt, even. She was not immune to injury, but her fur was dense and she had a lot of muscle on her frame, which almost acted like a form of armor. The only reason she had scrapes in need of healing at all right now was because her leg had full-blown gotten tangled in brambles, the spiked vines wrapping around her limb like a snare. They were not small thorns, either, more than long enough to stick all the way into her fur, or potentially go through the sole of a shoe (Ed was grateful his platform boots had such thick soles, or he would have a very bad puncture in his right foot). The brothers had to transmute something to get her out, and then Ed had used his automail hand to remove them, to avoid getting stabbed, himself.

Ultimately, though, the cuts she had been trying to heal would be completely gone in as little as one or two days, because Bunny possessed regenerative capabilities, due to being part spiny mouse. She would test a potential array design on any nick or scrape she or Ed got, but it was a strict rule that nobody got hurt on purpose for her research, except Bunny herself. It seemed she would have to naturally heal another set of injuries, though.

“Come on, Bunny, I’m not that pathetic.” He rolled his eyes as he adjusted his posture. Even without a blanket, he would not freeze to death in weather like this. It was sweet of her to offer her own, since his sleeping bag had gotten drenched, but he knew that for her, it was almost like a security thing. The one rare time that she had cried out in her sleep, enough to actually wake him up (Which meant it was a _bad_ dream on her part), she had calmed down much faster, seeing the familiar red and blue skulls. Since it was in the suitcase during travel, Ed also suspected that his scent had rubbed off on it, because burying her nose in the fabric seemed to be a habit.

“Ed, take the blanket, seriously.” He was going to have to argue with her.

Al fidgeted a little, “Bunny…maybe you could just use your array again and see if you could pull the water out of Ed’s sleeping bag?”

“Won’t I just accidentally drench _all _of us, then?” She asked.

“You know what your array does now, though. You haven’t drawn it in your alchemy notes yet or scratched it out, and you said you could sense it pulling at the water.” Well, that would be the optimal solution, if she could just dry it out, and then the debate over who needed the chimera’s beloved blanket more would no longer matter. “Why not try it?”

Ed tried to throw an arm around her shoulders and failed—stupid _freakishly tall_ giant chimeras—before simply opting to lean against her, “I think Al’s right, Bunny. You won’t get any better at your array if you’re scared to use it.”

The chimera sighed, “Okay…well, stand back, then. Just in case.”

Al straightened and Ed shifted away from her, and they walked a distance away, until he turned with his sibling to watch Bunny at the edge of the array. She took a steadying breath, and pressed her hand to the circle, a glowing blue light filtering from it. A bloom of cerulean started filtering away from it, almost like a current, reaching out towards Ed’s little platform and sleeping bag, until it traveled through the water on it. He saw droplets appear and begin falling down, before swirling away towards a lower area of the clearing at the edge the camp; a path with less resistance, though not _least_. Ed could see how Bunny reached for things, connecting to what she was working on through a single strand of water, and how the glow faded after it got a certain distance away, either because the chimera released it, or because there was a limit to how far her work could be from the array.

This continued for some time, before she released it, closing her eyes tightly shut, “I don’t think a transmutation has taken this much out of me since that mound back in Resembool…” She said, “But…I think I got it.”

If she kept practicing with her array, she would eventually develop the stamina to do it for extended periods with a lot of skill, and not feel completely exhausted afterwards. It was, however, an enormous test, what she had just done, regarding her control and the effectiveness of the array itself. She would probably be hard to wake up once she fell asleep, if she did not force herself to try and code the discovery in her notes.

Any alchemist with a shred of common sense coded their notes to prevent them from falling into the wrong hands or being stolen. Ed’s notes were coded as a travelogue, and Bunny’s were coded into entries about the chemical makeup, history, and production of various pigments. Considering she allegedly used actual information rather than gibberish when she coded her notes, and she used specific pigment names based on what she was writing about to reference her pages, she took a fair bit longer to write her notes than Ed did. Their notes were effective, though, because they were based on obscure information only the alchemist was liable to spot mistakes in, or a code only the author knew.

“Well, let’s see,” Ed walked past the chimera to inspect his sleeping bag, “completely dry,” He declared, before turning to see that Bunny was wobbling on her feet a bit. “Okay, uh…” He looked over at Al, looking for a bit of help. This was the kind of discovery you wanted to record _immediately_ so you did not lose anything, at least the array itself. Bunny looked like she was dangerously close to collapsing, though.

“I’ll draw the array on some paper, Bunny, and scratch out this one,” Al offered, and Ed sighed with relief; if she fainted, there was no way they could easily move her onto her own platform with her blanket. “You just go to sleep.” He urged.

“Kay, thanks,” She shook her head, clearly at that point of exhaustion where you registered what people were saying, but no longer had the energy to formulate a proper response. She slowly walked over to her sleeping area, and did not even circle once before laying down. She simply crumbled onto the blanket, and was probably out before she even touched it.

Ed felt bad, now, but at least Bunny did not immediately faint, so they knew the exhaustion was not life-threatening or dangerous. They would have to make sure they let her rest until she woke up on her own, no matter how eager they were to reach their destination in Ohpihezba. They had finished arresting an alchemist who was trying to transmute gold in Mebdo, but a bit of walking was necessary, since there was not a railroad connecting the two towns. The distance was enough to warrant a single night in the woods.

Alphonse went over to their suitcase and unzipped it, retrieving his own notebook, where he kept a list of things he wanted to do or foods to eat when he got his body back (Ed tried to suppress the wave of guilt when he saw it). He went over to the array that Bunny had drawn and flipped to a blank page, intent on sketching it out, “What do you think this symbol means, brother?” He asked, talking about the geometric shape inside the water triangle.

“Dunno, it doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before. With all the random stuff she knows about art, though, it could be from anywhere. She’s pretty big on symbolism.” He sat down on the edge of his sleeping platform, crossing his legs.

“I think it looks like a snake.” Al concluded.

“What makes you say that?”

“Look,” He had finished drawing out the array, so he knelt down and pointed at the one on the ground, “Here’s the body, then the head,” He then indicated the two diagonal lines past the triangle, “This is the tongue.” A snake was usually a symbol of medicine, so finding it used in a potential healing array was not a surprise. The surprise, then, was that instead of healing, the transmutation manipulated water. Ed could see what Al was pointing out, though. It did look a lot like a snake, complete with a forked tongue.

Ed frowned, “It must have represented something else other than what Bunny was trying to use it for, this specific symbol.” He then sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his left hand, “I’m jealous, I have to admit. We’re going all over the place trying to figure out how to make a Philosopher’s Stone, and haven’t found any arrays or working leads. Next thing you know, our resident novice makes a discovery by sheer luck.”

“You’re not happy for her?”

“What? Of course I am!” He responded almost automatically, “It’s just, when do you ever see arrays work for something by accident? A lot of people out there would give anything to be able to make an array that powerful, and actually know how to use it. Bunny just randomly did it; that’s unheard of.”

“It’s not impossible, Brother. Some of the best discoveries are made by complete accident, while pursuing something completely different. It happens a lot in science. You know that. Maybe it’s not common in alchemy, but good accidents can happen.”

“Yeah, but it’s still a little frustrating, if only because we can’t make a breakthrough like that for the Stone.” He responded; grin slightly rueful.

The points of red light shifted, squinting slightly in a happy way, “I’m glad, though, that it was her. She’s probably not the only person out there that knows a water array, but now she has something she can use against alchemists. She’s the only one out of the three of us that can’t use alchemy in a fight.” Because alchemy in a fight completely threw off the usual dynamics Bunny depended on. No matter how much heavier, faster, or more dangerous the chimera was, overall, she could not compete with pillars or obstacles springing up out of nowhere. She had found herself blocked in by stone walls while the guy in Mebdo fled, and while the brothers gave chase, she had spent that time drawing an array to break out. She hid it well, but Ed could see that she had been upset badly by her inability to do anything. She did not have the capability to draw arrays with lightning speed, like Alphonse.

“You think we should figure out a way for her to carry it all the time?” Ed asked, “We could stick it on the inside of her collar.”

“That would probably work best. The Colonel’s gloves have his transmutation circles on them, and the Major has his on his gauntlets. It’d be cool if they could be on the outside, but people would ask questions.”

Ed shuddered, “Don’t remind me of that guy.” Major Alex Louis Armstrong, a muscle-bound, _freakishly_ _tall_ giant with an unhealthy obsession with taking his shirt off and trying to _hug_ people. He insisted on treating him and Alphonse like children, and Ed had stopped being a child ages ago. At the very least, he should respect that some people did not like hugs, and there was the other fact that he practically crushed people’s ribs, trying to do that. What made it worse was that he was completely sincere in his actions.

They had only met the Major once, when he had come bursting into Mustang’s office at the same time that they were there to receive a briefing on their next assignment. A bunch of military personnel began screaming with fear, while he announced his presence in a way that Ed had honestly never seen before. He could live never meeting the man ever again, after the ‘vibrant youth’ comment, followed by the sensation of what he had thought was his spine being snapped.

“I don’t understand why you hate the Major so much, Ed.” Al told him.

“He treats me like a kid, he takes his shirt off and practically crushes you.”

“But I’m twelve and you’re thirteen, we _are_ kids, and so is Bunny.”

“Bunny is seventeen, she barely counts.”

“It won’t make a difference, brother.”

He huffed, and flopped back on top of his sleeping bag, staring up at the stars for a moment. Outside of cities, they were always brighter, because they never had to compete with electrical lighting to be the brightest thing present. In Central, they were completely absent, and in East City, they were just a dull gleam that you had to squint to notice. Resembool had absolutely beautiful stars, and the relative lack of trees meant there was nothing really there to obstruct someone who wanted to look at the sky. “Wow, the sky’s beautiful.” He commented.

Al probably looked up, at that point, too, “It doesn’t change regardless of where you are, but it’s changing based on what time of year it is. Isn’t it weird how we’re just a bunch of people sitting on a giant sphere, and we’re spinning? Do you think there’s someone else on a different world somewhere looking up at the sky, just like us?”

Ed gave a small laugh, “Aliens? Really?”

_“Brother,_” Al warned.

“I dunno,” He finally responded, “It’s probably really rare to have the conditions right for life on a planet, but we’ve got it here, all over the place. I don’t see why they couldn’t exist…but…we got no proof either.” He extended out his automail hand, examining how, even though he could not feel temperature, the fingers opened and closed at will, “Maybe they figured out how to get missing limbs and bodies back.”

“That’d be nice…”

“Or maybe they just regrow them, like a salamander, or something.”

_“Lucky,”_ Al bit the words out with false venom and envy, and then they both laughed. A pleasant silence followed, where Ed thought he would fall asleep, before his brother spoke again, “Brother?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe they’re looking up at the sky and they’re thinking, if anyone else is out there, they hope they’re doing okay, and wishing them well…no matter what happens.”

“Then we gotta wish them well too, right? Equivalent Exchange.”

Al hummed with agreement.

The sounds of an array being scratched out of existence in the dirt, crackling flames, and the deep, steady breathing of a chimera filled the silence.

The city of Ohpihezba was one of the cities that bordered the northern edge of the east area in Amestris, the next stop if you continued north along the railroad past New Optain. It was a bigger city, and seemed to be a hub for many musicians, men and women playing instruments at the corners of intersections or at parks or fountains. The benefit of these musicians was not simply that they provided entertainment wherever pedestrians went, but also, they were enough of a distraction that Ed and Al could whisper things with Bunny without too much fear of being discovered. There were enough distractions in the city that people actually did not stare a whole lot at Al or the chimera.

“Hey, what are those?” He indicated two men playing instruments next to a building. The sound was incredibly unique, and as far as he could tell, they were not making any mistakes keeping a proper rhythm. One instrument was an extremely long wooden pipe of sorts that seemed to depend a bit on the movement of the lips to produce sound. The other looked like two large iron pans pushed together, with shallow indentations around the top.

“Handpan, and didgeridoo,” She whispered, pointing a bit using her snout.

“Thanks,” Ed responded, mentally filing it under his growing list of unusual observed instruments, along with the lithophone (like a xylophone, but with slabs of rock), the armonica (glass-like bowls turning on a wheel that made noise when fingers ran over them), and after Bunny had failed to identify it, the udu (wooden jar or bottle-looking things played like drums). The pile of traditional-yet-obscure instruments he had seen went alongside unconventional ones. A man who had fashioned a saxophone using a funnel and lengths of cheaper tubing, and the drummer who had been using pots, pans, scrap metal, and lengths of pipe.

They kept going down the street with a respectful nod at the musicians as they passed, having some time to kill before the next train headed to East City. It would be an overnight trip, anyway, so nobody wanted to waste time when they would be cooped up after they left. The city was paved with red bricks that cratered in several places from horse-drawn carts and cars, and there was an obnoxious noise whenever vehicles went over pits in the ground. Most of the buildings were similarly red brick, mostly small businesses with residences on the second floor, and the shop below. Awnings were a wide array of colors, and some buildings had bright murals painted on their sides.

They kept walking for a while, until the sounds of shattering glass, followed by people screaming, disrupted their activity. The trio exchanged looks before running around the corner of a building to see what was happening. An automobile had crashed into the front of a jewelry store, and while it was virtually destroyed, there were men pouring out of it and darting into the building, all clad in black, three of them. There was another equally disguised individual who got out of the wrecked car’s driver seat and ran in the opposite direction, approaching a different vehicle that had slowed down at seeing the wreck. The criminal ripped the door open and pointed a pistol at the driver, “Out of the car!” he shouted. The woman screamed and was roughly grabbed and pulled out, before the thief-turned-carjacker got inside and buckled himself in, looking over his shoulder and swearing.

“My son’s in there! Give him back!” The woman began hysterically crying.

“Mom!” A terrified face popped up in the back seat.

“Get out of the car you brat!” The carjacker shouted, twisting around and aiming his pistol threateningly, as the little boy hurriedly threw open the back door of the vehicle and practically fell out, running over and jumping into his mother’s arms. She knelt over him, as if trying to shield him from the person who was so willing to point a lethal weapon at her child.

Edward scowled, “A robbery? I don’t think so!” He clapped his hands and pressed them down onto the ground, and pillars of rock rose from the road, forming into massive hands that gripped the car. The criminal panicked and tried to reverse the vehicle or drive forward, but the wheels spun uselessly. “Let’s catch this guy first. Bunny, can you pin him down? We can bind him up with alchemy once you do that.”

“Got it,” She said, barely above a whisper. “He’s going to get out any moment. Gotta get him to drop his gun first.”

“An alchemist?” The thief, once he realized he was not going to get the car to move, opened the door again and got out of the driver’s seat, turning to run, but not before twisting around and pointing his pistol behind him and trying to fire a few shots. One hit the ground, dangerously close to where the mother and her child were. Another dinged off of Al’s armor and landed in a wall. Bunny, though, yelped, and Ed turned to see a red streak along her left hind leg. _Oh no she was hit._

“That _hurt!_” The chimera snarled, before she took off after the criminal, closing the distance easily and jumping before she connected with his back, biting down between his shoulder blades and eliciting a scream. She dragged him a bit like that, shaking him a few times, before letting go and scratching him with her claws once with her left paw, the wet noise of flesh being torn as easily as thin fabric unmistakable. The thief shifted under her, still holding his pistol, and tried to twist around, seemingly trying to figure out how to get into a position to shoot, but having to prioritize protecting his vitals, first.

_“Bunny! Gun!”_ Ed shouted urgently.

No matter how angry Bunny was at getting struck by flying bullets, she still registered the warning, because she spotted the weapon and slapped at the robber’s hand with her paw, knocking the pistol out of his grip. Alphonse ran up, a piece of chalk in-hand, and hastily drew a transmutation circle, before activating it, loops of stone sprouting from the ground and wrapping around the man’s arms and ankles, pinning him so he could no longer move. The criminal spouted an enormous string of curses at the younger brother, who had no interest, in favor of examining Bunny’s injury.

“Bunny, your _leg,_” he spoke, horrified. The chimera’s ears pinned back and she looked back at it, jaws stained red with blood that was not her own. Instead of immediately answering, she limped a distance away from the apprehended thief, something she would do in hopes of preventing strangers from hearing her if she spoke. Ed ran up to her, then.

“Bunny, you got shot, we need to get that looked at!” He panicked, in spite of himself, the robbers still in the jewelry store briefly forgotten. They had dealt with people who had guns before, but seeing anyone you cared about getting shot was terrifying. If it hit something vital, a single bullet could do an enormous amount of damage.

“It’s a graze and looks worse than it is_, _the bleeding has already stopped.” The chimera hissed, more from the pain than out of irritation regarding the brother’s concern. “We need to _catch_ these trigger-happy idiots before they _do_ kill someone! They’re too willing to pull the trigger. We’ll worry about the damage _after_.”

Swallowing, Ed nodded, and turned his attention to the storefront, where three people were still inside looting. Two of them were smashing glass display cases and pulling out gold and silver jewelry, going for diamonds first, but not hesitating to snatch other precious stones, before dumping them into what seemed to be plain pillowcases. They left the black velvet lining of the displays with nothing, the mannequin throats and fingers that held necklaces or rings bare. A bold bunch of thieves, that they kept trying to steal versus running, every so often aiming their pistols at a group of terrified patrons, huddled in the corner on the ground. The third one was a little smarter, staring back at the trio through the shattered storefront, perhaps having witnessed his associate being captured.

“Al, you go first, that one guy looks ready to shoot. I’m gonna try to put something up so they can’t use the customers in the store as hostages.” Ed whispered.

Al nodded, and proceeded forward, while Ed clapped his hands and pressed them to the ground. There was a ripple as stone began ripping its way in the form of spikes towards the store, shattering the storefront a bit more and tearing up the flooring. It formed into a barrier that wrapped around and blocked off the victims from the thieves, creating a barrier that would protect them from any flying bullets. A few of the civilians were startled badly enough to scream, before settling and falling silent again. All three robbers twisted around when it happened, spewing strings of profanity. Ed followed after Al, after that, and Bunny limped behind him. “Good job, Ed,” The chimera whispered, “That way nobody’s going to get hit.”

Ed grimaced, “If anything, it’s _them_ that’s gonna get hit. Al’s armor is steel, bullets will just ricochet right off him.”

Bunny grimly snorted in agreement.

The commotion of the three remaining robbers started when Al stepped over pieces of broken brick and shattered glass, the thieves raising their guns and pointing them. The armor lifted his hands up in a placating gesture, “Please don’t shoot, or you might get hit by the-” A pistol fired, and there was a scream as one of the men—the one who had been watching them the whole time and knew the alchemists were dangerous—fell, pressing both hands to the left side of his abdomen. Al lowered his hands, “-ricochet…” He finished his sentence. He went for the closest person near him that was not incapacitated, punching him square in the jaw, and sending him flying.

At the same time, Ed rushed the last one, ducking to the ground just before a shot was fired harmlessly over his head, before kicking out with his automail leg and sweeping the man’s feet out from under him, knocking him to the ground. “What!? A little kid!?” The robber stared up at him through his black mask, flabbergasted.

Ed felt his temper snap, and viciously kicked his enemy in the gut, then, again using his left leg, _“Who are you calling a pipsqueak so small he’d fit through the eye of a needle?!”_

“Guns!” Al called in warning, from where he was plucking a weapon from his own opponent’s hand. The would-be thief was already unconscious from the initial punch.

“Oh! Right!” Ed hurriedly leaned over the man before he could recover, wrenching the pistol from his grasp and throwing it aside, before clapping his hands and pressing them to the fancy white marble tile of the jewelry store. Like what Alphonse had done for the criminal outside, it morphed into rings that pinned the robber by his ankles and wrists. He squirmed helplessly for a moment, before swearing and seeming to simply give up, briefly mumbling something about Ed having a nasty kick, before falling silent, sulking, almost.

Bunny, meanwhile, was backing the one robber who was already injured from his own gunshot into a corner. He was unable to walk, but crawled back pitifully by kicking his legs, being driven further away from the weapon he had dropped when he was hit. The chimera growled menacingly, and his eyes were wide with terror, visible through the mask, “…N-nice doggy…” He whimpered. The chimera, of course, simply gave the most bone-chilling growls in response, doing nothing to comfort him in the slightest. Ed wished his glares had the same intimidation factor.

It was at this moment that the local military police of Ohpihezba chose to appear, charging into the storefront and aiming their guns at everyone, “Everyone freeze, hands in the-” An older man with silver hair and matching grey eyes cut off the dialogue, and lowered his weapon, taking in the chaos, before focusing on Al, a stern expression on his face, “You, are you the alchemist who fought these people off?” He asked, glancing around and taking note of robbers that were unconscious or otherwise incapable of fighting back.

A few more officers came in through the shattered storefront, two of them coming to tend to the one who had the abdominal injury, concluding that he needed to be taken to a hospital immediately. A few more nudged at the rings of marble on the one thief who was not seriously injured, and whined about how they were going to need a large hammer to break them off the guy’s limbs. They mentioned the same for the guy outside, “Effective restraint, though,” One commented, receiving a nod in agreement.

Outside, more people were dealing with the guy who had tried to carjack a getaway vehicle, a random civilian walking up and offering a hammer for them to use, which they gratefully took and began using to try and free the criminal’s wrists. Another officer was trying to talk to the distraught woman and her son, consoling them and probably seeking a witness statement.

“Um,” Al pointed at Ed, “Me, my brother, and our dog. Brother’s a State Alchemist.”

The officer turned to Ed, “State Alchemist, huh? Can I see your watch as proof? It’ll make this investigation a lot smoother.”

Ed huffed and pulled out his silver watch, showing it to the officer, who seemed to be a Captain, based on the three stripes and stars adorning his shoulders, “I’m Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist.” He said. Even within military circles, not everyone seemed aware that Ed was only thirteen years old. They frequently got him and his younger brother mixed up, and a lot of them would say some _very untrue_ comments about his height after they were corrected. Ed was the youngest person to ever get the certification, at the age of twelve, and he was honestly a little surprised more people were not aware of it. The higher-ups in the military reportedly _preened_ at having him within the ranks.

“I see, that’s the watch,” The officer mused, and then saluted, “Captain Lorenzo Einaudi, Major Elric, sir!” He quickly adopted the stance and tone lower-ranking officers usually used, when they realized Ed was a Major. It just felt weird, here, though, considering the situation. Most people Ed saw on a regular basis knew he did not really care for the formality. There was nothing ‘military’ about how he carried himself, and he knew that. He could have chosen to wear a tailored uniform that fit him, but he preferred his civilian clothing.

Ed waved dismissively, “You don’t have to salute me, seriously, it’s awkward,” He said, before a tap on his shoulder got his attention.

“Ah, sorry to disturb you, Major, and your talk with the Captain,” One of the officers said, “We can’t get to the people on the other side of your barrier. Can you break it down for us?” She asked.

Right, he had made a wall so they would not get hit by any fired shots, “Oh, no problem.” He walked over to the rows of tall spikes, and clapped his hands, seeing a few of the officers jolt with surprise at the movement, before he pressed his hands against barrier. The stone lit up blue, before withdrawing from where it had been, retreating through the floor and returning to its natural state, revealing a huddled crowd of people blinking with surprise. A lot of the officers, if not all of them who were in the store, stared, no doubt thinking about the absence of a transmutation circle.

“Is…is it over?” One of the customers slowly rose to his feet, looking around timidly. He was gripping a little black box in his hand like it was the most precious thing he had, and Ed distantly noted he must have been picking out a ring.

The military police slowly filtered in over the damaged part of the floor, checking on them, while Ed caught sight of another officer holding a first-aid kit trying to take a look at Bunny’s flank. She backed away from him, eyeing him warily, much to his frustration. The chimera despised when people touched her flank; and she never had to verbally express it for him to be able to tell. Bunny was somewhat used to that sort of contact from Ed, his brother, or even Winry, but was extremely uncomfortable with anyone else.

He walked over to the chimera and rested a hand against her side, grabbing her attention, “Bunny, just let him have a look.” He told her, “I know it’s not comfortable, but even if it was just a graze, we don’t want it to get infected.”

The chimera grumbled at him and glanced back at the stranger, clearly thinking about the fact that her skin would heal up in almost no time at all.

“Just do it,” He urged, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything weird.”

That seemed to ease her anxieties, because she sighed and lowered herself to the ground, resting her head on her paws. The officer tentatively began parting the fur on her leg, with a grateful look sent Ed’s way, and began dabbing antiseptic on the injury. Ed noted how Bunny seemed to jump at the initial contact, and then did not wince again. Captain Einaudi spoke again, “We’re getting statements from the victims, Major. It seems your dog got shot?” He asked.

Ed turned to him, “Yeah, a graze from the guy outside.”

“She a formal military canine?” He asked.

“Unfortunately, no. It’s times like these I wish she was, so that there would be a heavier penalty for hurting her. She’s been a huge help for me and Al.”

The Captain hummed thoughtfully, “All of these criminals are going to be charged with Aggravated Assault of an Officer with a Deadly Weapon, since they pointed their weapons at you. While I can’t press charges for wounding a police dog, I don’t take too kindly to your companion being hurt, either. Your dog roughed him up real good, but I think we can do a bit more. We can charge him with a Class C Felony, and that can put him behind bars for ten years. He threatened a mother and her kid, too. For the best we keep him off the streets, I think.”

Oh, so this guy was not nearly as formal or stiff as he acted. Ed grinned, “That’s awesome, Captain.”

The man’s eyes crinkled slightly, “Of course, Major.” The smile was more obvious in his voice than his actual face. He then turned around, “Well, I’m off to go fill out some paperwork. Feel free to tell your commanding officer, too. Give him a good scare, for us MP’s in Ohpihezba.”

The officer tending to Bunny’s leg put ointment over her injury, and chuckled a bit, “See, that’s why we love the Captain,” He said, “He _looks_ mean, but he’s a big softie.”

“Hey, he looks like an awesome commanding officer.” Ed commented, while Al came up to join them.

The officer grinned, “Oh, you have no idea. One time when one of our guys got shot and was stuck in the hospital, he arranged this party in the office, the day he was scheduled to come back into work. There was a cake and everything.”

“That sounds like fun,” His younger brother joined in.

The officer nodded, “It was. One of our guys even brought his trumpet in and started playing solo.”

Alphonse hummed thoughtfully, “There’s a lot of musicians in the city, here.” He said.

The man stood up, patting Bunny on the shoulder, “Ohpihezba, this is where you come if you want to hear good music. The local MP’s here are as close-knit as family.” He commented, before saluting Edward, “A pleasure to meet you, Major, but I’ll have to take my leave!” With that he turned and ran to follow a group of uniformed individuals outside, “-Hey guys wait for me!” He cried; his voice pitched almost like a whine.

Ed did the only thing he could think of, in response to that.

He burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written several chapters now of my own portrayal of the three-year gap for FMA, but I'm wondering how many more I should write. I'm sure a lot of people are eager to get on with the main story. I at least wanted to have some time to introduce how Bunny's presence alters some minor events or even character development, though. I'm thinking of doing a time skip of another year, at least, in the next chapter. Ed would be 14, Al 13, and Bunny 18. I'd like your thoughts, though, on this, a bit.
> 
> Now to a funny script that I just thought of but had nowhere to put it:
> 
> Mustang: Somebody left a box of pastels in the conference room...Havoc! This belongs to the Elrics, please try to catch them before they leave!
> 
> Havoc: *Grabs box and chases the trio down, and is out of breath on the steps of East Command because he smokes and sprinted the whole way* Hey...hah...you left...your pastels....
> 
> Al: Oh! That would have been bad. *Takes pastels* Sorry to make you run out here.
> 
> (Later)
> 
> Havoc: So...which brother do you think the box belonged to.
> 
> Fuery: Well, I can't picture Ed drawing with pastels, so it's gotta be Al.
> 
> Breda: You don't know that. The boss might actually like doing artwork in his spare time.
> 
> Mustang and Hawkeye: *Smiles knowingly*
> 
> (Fun fact, really expensive pastel sets can easily cost 100 USD, while cheap ones can give you an enormous set for 20. Losing a box of high-quality pastels would actually be very, very bad.)


	13. Hidden Altruism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward gets food poisoning, causing a delay in the trio's next assignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of those who commented on my story, thank you so much for your support and input! I'm glad that you aren't bored with my chapters that don't come from the main story line, and I appreciate your feedback a great deal!
> 
> This chapter takes place about six months after A City Where Music Plays, Bunny has had her eighteenth birthday, while Ed and Al are still twelve and thirteen. This chapter focuses largely on characters other than Ed. I wrote it to showcase, a bit, interactions between Bunny and some characters whose dynamics I didn't get to explore too much lately. How does she interact with Mustang when the boys are absent, and also, me wanting to have Al play a more prominent role, this time around. Also, because I really want her to be more than someone that just follows Mustang around, we get some proper development of Bunny's interactions with Hawkeye.
> 
> This chapter does contain, though, some things that will probably influence future chapters. It contains more backstory for Bunny, and expands a bit on her thought process.
> 
> On another note, the pastel box accident that I made an end note about, I am declaring to be an official thing that actually happened. Not all of my end notes are real events in the story, but I really liked it too much not to incorporate it.

Bunny sat across from Mustang quietly in the conference room, waiting for him to break the silence. She had been left in the Colonel’s company after Edward had begun to suffer excruciating stomach pains that had him doubling over, unable to move. Alphonse had grown concerned and had dragged his elder brother, kicking and screaming, to the resident doctor’s office, only stopping to drop off the chimera so she would not have to awkwardly stand around and be gawked at by total strangers. Bunny was convinced, though, that he had gotten food poisoning or perhaps some sort of stomach bug, based on scent alone. The food within the cafeteria of Eastern Command was not safe, apparently.

The Colonel, as he usually did, adopted his ‘mask,’ as Bunny always called it. He kept his mouth a relaxed line, no furrow to the brows or creases that would betray what he was thinking. He would lean forward and steeple his fingers, and half of his face would be hidden. When Ed or someone he wanted to toy with was present, he would look up and adopt a mocking smirk, and just the faintest narrowing of eyes. The Colonel’s actual eyes were grey, and such an intensely dark shade that it was hard to distinguish the iris from the pupil, except when they caught the light. It was a rare color; black eyes usually had brown undertones.

Simply staring at each other, the chimera picked out little things she was aware of. Minute signs of life, even within an image of stillness. The ribcage reflected how someone’s lungs filled with air whenever they breathed. A subtle waver would occur in their posture, then, as their muscles asserted balance and kept gravity at bay. Even the steadiest of hands would faintly tremble, influenced by the pulse in their veins. Only supported by the elbow, Mustang’s hands shook slightly, his arms tense to keep them that way. It was a barely-there twitching that most people were not even aware of.

Most people looked for none of these things.

“So,” Mustang began, “I haven’t heard much about you learning alchemy lately. How is that going?” He asked. Bunny supposed she should not have been surprised; she was an eighteen-year-old learning from a twelve and thirteen-year-old, and Ed and Al’s approaching birthdays would not change the novelty. Being an alchemist himself, Mustang was probably just as interested in seeing how far she went with it. Considering it was only in snatches that she was able to have private conversations with him, and she and the brothers had been for the most part silent about her discoveries, he knew almost nothing.

Bunny’s ears twitched, reflecting on an array she had been practicing with constantly for the past six months. The Flame Alchemist would be horrified to know she had figured it out by accident, and in spite of Ed’s urging, she had decided to keep it a closely guarded secret. The array had some obvious uses that would benefit society, especially in areas that needed access to water. It had enormous potential, however, as a weapon_,_ and she was learning to use it like one. It was best to avoid mentioning the most dangerous circle she knew, that was now imprinted on the interior of her collar, for use whenever she needed it. She did not want to discuss it until something forced her hand.

After a moment, her mind went to something she had decided earlier, also somewhat against the brothers’ will, involving a different array she finally discovered. She turned and walked over to the coffee table, where her sketchbook and a pen had been left for her, Al being thoughtful despite worrying over Ed’s pain. “This is something that puts me at odds with a lot of alchemists, apparently.” Bunny began, flipping it open and withdrawing a tiny packet of papers that were stapled together from where she had hidden them. She picked up the pamphlet by a corner in her mouth and walked back over to where Mustang’s expression had become one of visible interest. After a moment, the Colonel took the papers from her, and looked it over.

His eyes went wide, “You’re _giving _me a copy of your alchemy notes?” His tone held disbelief.

On the pamphlet was a transmutation circle with bilateral symmetry, formed from an intricate arrangement of larger and smaller circles, creating a pattern that called to mind the orbits of planets or the movement of stars. It used a mathematical formula found in nature, so while it served a function, there was something artistic about the way it appeared. Every ring, including the exterior of the circle, was accompanied by alchemic text. By itself, it would not be decipherable to someone who looked at the transmutation circle, alone, but with the addition of the unencrypted notes written beneath the array, and a full-blown guide on the following pages, it was possible to learn and copy it, or make derivatives.

“That array is the end result of me studying medicine and bio alchemy for a year and a half, and asking an enormous amount of questions. It’s a transmutation circle that’s specialized for clotting blood and sealing together skin. It won’t fix broken bones or heal a clipped organ, but if you find yourself in a situation where an injury is bleeding profusely, it will work.” Bunny sighed, “It does, however, use an immense amount of energy. If it needs stitches, you’ll feel exhausted, if it’s worse than stitches and they need a tourniquet, you’ll probably fall unconscious in the next five minutes.” Because medical alchemy was more taxing than any transmutation that Bunny had ever seen, and even Ed agreed. The chimera naturally struggled with certain kinds of alchemy; making pillars and spikes out of the ground like the boys was not something she could do, but even Edward struggled with healing alchemy.

“Regardless of its use, most alchemists would keep this a closely-guarded secret.” Mustang responded. He had recovered his mask at some point, but Bunny could see his mind working, trying to grasp why the chimera had chosen to give him the array. Oddly enough, he was overthinking the gesture. “What is it that you want in exchange, for giving me this?” He asked, after a small pause.

Bunny simply stared at him, for a moment, before raising a paw and covering the base of her snout, like how someone would rub their temples, eyes closed. “Just take the array, Mustang. I’m giving it to you because I _want _to.” She lowered her hand, “I’m going to start work on trying to refine it until I can at least heal a broken bone, but for now, it works in an emergency situation. It can only benefit you to learn how to use it. I’d suggest sharing it with Major Armstrong, as well.”

“People are going to wonder who designed this.”

Bunny huffed, “I’m aware of the risk, but Ed and Al know it, and people will sooner think one of them invented it, than suspect the dog is an alchemist.” Because in this scenario, truth was stranger than fiction. She was sure the statistical odds of a pet turning out to be a chimera with human-level intellect were ridiculously low. So low that it would not even be something people considered. The statistics shrank even more, factoring in the idea that the chimera was capable of performing advanced alchemy.

He glanced over the notes again, before setting them aside, “Very well,” He decided, seemingly unsure of how to give a proper thanks, before changing the subject to something easier for him to navigate. “I still find the pastel box debate entertaining. My staff are split on which Elric brother is the true owner and draws with them in their spare time, and they’ve ran a bet on it.” He noted the chimera’s silent expression of curiosity that was asking him to go into more detail, “Havoc and Falman think Alphonse is the artist, while Breda and Fuery bet on Fullmetal.” He smirked, knowing every member of his team who bet either sibling was wrong.

“Wonder how they’ll handle whenever they find out the secret, then.” Bunny mused, giving a light tail wag.

“_If_ they find out,” Mustang tried to correct her.

“You see it as a possibility, I see it as inevitable.” The chimera told him, “Secrets become harder to keep the longer you have them. Leaving the box of pastels in here was one slip, but it’ll hardly be the only occasion where we make a mistake. All that has to happen is people see my sketchbook and realize the initials in there don’t match Ed or Al. It’s ‘B.L.’ because that’s as close as I could get to a signature.” She knew it was a safety risk not using initials that matched the brothers, or leaving her works unsigned, but it hurt to completely erase her presence from existence. Her mind rebelled at the thought of not being able to put something marking the work as her own.

“How do you intend to handle things if they find out, then?” the Colonel had an inquisitive note in his voice.

The chimera tossed her head in a shrug, “No point worrying about it until it happens.” She said. There was a lull, before she spoke again, “So…food poisoning aside-”

“I thought it was overeating?” A bit of a teasing note entered the Colonel’s voice.

“_Food poisoning aside_, what was the assignment you had for us?” She stressed the first part of the sentence in mock offense, earning the slightest twitch of lips that signaled amusement.

“There’s reports of a black market forming in Cameron. The mountain ranges there have species found nowhere else on the planet, and people seem to be using the town as a base for poaching and selling animals and their parts. The purpose of this mission is to arrest the criminals and break up their operations. It may very well also involve trying to transport displaced animals, which is why your group is ideal for the job.”

“Oh, the Eisnabe mountains…snow leopards, musk deer, tahrs, bharals…lots of endangered stuff. Hopefully Ed recovers from whatever bug he has quickly, then. He shouldn’t be sick if we’re potentially going to higher altitudes, since that’s rough on your system already…oh…right, right…Cameron isn’t in a cold, snowy area, is it?” Because Ed had automail and metal was dangerous below or above certain temperatures.

“Cameron is at the base of a mountain; it’s colder, but not below freezing.” Mustang replied.

“Oh, then we’ve got nothing to worry about.” Bunny’s ear twitched, “I think I hear them coming down the hall…Ed’s stomping, so he’s mad.”

A few moments later, the door was roughly kicked open with an automail foot, and Edward came in, skin a little paler than normal, and wincing faintly. Bunny noted he had a bit more color than before, and he was no longer doubled over, though he was still clearly ill. Alphonse followed, closing the now-dented door behind them, “Brother, please stop kicking the doors, you’ll break them.”

“I got stuck with a _needle, _Al!” He then went quiet and muttered under his breath, “Stupid doctors and nurses, they’re lucky I have a policy against hitting medical personnel.” Because Ed had developed some amount of restraint based on the fact that, as much as he hated medical treatment, it was meant for his benefit. It did not stop him from trying to bolt when injections were mentioned, and he was far from a stellar or well-behaved patient, but he would not try to hurt a doctor in an effort to get away. Attacking doors, in this case, was his way of taking out his frustrations in a way that was…not exactly appropriate, but still better than harming actual people. Back in Resembool, Winry was attempting to learn similar forms of restraint with her wrench.

The muscles at the corners of the Colonel’s mouth twitched faintly, like he wanted to frown. She could see him fighting a furrow in his brow, “What’s the diagnosis?” He asked. For someone who was actually concerned, he was a master of sounding like everything was relatively normal. His tells would probably look more as if he were displeased with Edward’s choice of entrance, if he caught them.

Ed sat down on the sofa, or more accurately, collapsed, fingers curling. He probably would have clutched his stomach if Mustang were not there, but instead he gave the man an exhausted glare, “Food poisoning.” He tried to snap, but his words had far less venom than normal, considering he was probably physically and emotionally exhausted. They really needed to just get back to the dorm room the three had been assigned to, so he could rest. Even if the food poisoning was not serious, he would probably still need a day or two to completely recover from it. “Hurry up and tell us the assignment so we can go.”

A faint crease appeared between Mustang’s eyes, then, at Ed’s failure to insult him. “Breaking down a poaching operation in Cameron,” He picked up a stack of papers next to where he had set Bunny’s healing array notes, “I have the briefing here. You’re lucky it’s not urgent.” He gave his subordinate a smirk, “Do you need someone to carry you to your dorm?” He taunted.

Ed growled at the man and gingerly got back up, walking over to take them, “_I can walk._ I’m not about to fall over, hate to break it to you.” He said sarcastically, before looked over the pages, a thoughtful frown appearing on his face, “Interesting mission we got, this time,” He glanced over at Bunny, “Cameron is the most isolated city in the East Area, isn’t it?”

The chimera snorted, “We’d better be careful. The large wilderness means there’s a higher concentration of predators, and there’s _not_ a place close by to go seek medical attention if something goes wrong on the road.”

“Brother and I had survival training, so we should be good,” Al offered.

Mustang spoke, then, “Get rid of the poaching operation, and if there’s live animals, try to ensure their welfare so they can be released back into the wild. Any items like pelts or bones, dispose of them. That’s the most effective way to discourage people from repeat offending.”

Ed gave a lazy salute, “Got it, we’ll head out in a day or two.”

The next day, Ed was still sick. He was no longer suffering serious stomach pains, but to Bunny, still gave off a faint scent that indicated illness. While he looked almost normal, he still had faint shadows under his eyes from not sleeping as deeply, and his skin had not yet regained its usual glow. On Alphonse and Bunny’s insistence, he would stay in the dorms and rest for another day before everyone set out for Cameron, bearing their concern with a lot of annoyed grumbling about mother hens. Although he had complained he would be stuck staring up at the ceiling all day, his usual need for abnormal amounts of sleep meant that after only a few minutes of silence while lying on his bed, he sank into oblivion.

After a bit of silence when she was sure Ed would no longer wake up with a bit of noise, Bunny began to quietly hum while she was coloring with pastels in her sketchbook, which was set out over a well-used cloth next to a tiny can of fixative that she only used once she was certain she was happy with her work, since they were indoors. Bunny’s pastel-based transmutation array was actually not about drawing with pastels—though she _could_—so much as cleaning up the mess. Her paws were currently multicolored, and the working surface was not much better. The drawing she had done, for now, was a green, blue, and brown heron skull, and several types of flowers that were found only in the southern swamps of Amestris.

“Hey, Bunny, how can you draw skulls like that without looking at anything?” Al asked, at some point having looked up from the book he was reading and simply opting to watch her work instead. Being observed while making things; it was unusual, if the chimera was honest with herself. If eyes were windows to the soul, then having someone watch you produce your art was like having eyes examining your heart. When you felt like your work was an extension of yourself, there was almost a hint of embarrassment, as if people were watching something private. It was not enough that Bunny was incapable of working while being observed, but she did feel that odd sense of something personal being seen.

“I used to draw skulls pretty often, enough where I have certain kinds memorized, and flowers are a good companion for skeletons,” Bunny responded, glancing over at the sleeping brother, “Don’t tell Ed, but I actually really like skull designs…granted, mine usually don’t have spikes and devil horns.”

“That’s why you liked the blanket, huh?” He asked, looking over at where it rested on the floor.

“One thing your brother has that’s useful for an artist or designer, though he hasn’t quite developed it yet, is that he’s daring enough to attempt things. Lots of people are scared to use color. Ed is not one of them.” She began drawing out the shape of another blossom. It had six petals, with the one on the bottom possessing two trailing wisps that formed a shape almost like an inverted lyre. It had no leaves, only green roots that clung to the skull.

“What kind of flower is that?” Alphonse asked.

“Ghost orchid; you only find them in a certain range in the South Area, in swamps growing at about eye level on trees. Locals are super protective of these plants, because they’re very delicate.” Her ear twitched, “Herons are a pretty common sight around there, too.”

Al tilted his head a little, making up for the facial expression he would have had, much like what the chimera herself did, “I thought things in the South Area were all canyons and mountains.”

Bunny shook her head, “That’s the central and western parts of the quadrant; if you go further east, there’s a lot of rivers, bogs, and swamps instead. The main reason cities don’t grow in that area, or rather, why you don’t see towns marked on the map, is because it’s just not suitable for railroads. There _are_ roads you can drive cars on, but not many. It’s a lot of walking. Some decent-sized communities are tucked away in that region, but people generally keep to themselves.”

“Were you from there? You seem to know a lot about it, and you’re even talking about local wildlife and plants.”

The chimera’s thoughts halted for a moment, briefly stunned by the realization of how much she had said, before she looked up at Al and gave a small smile, a slight show of teeth. Amongst the people that knew Bunny, Al was one of the few individuals she would not hide her past from. What the brothers knew about her was far greater than anyone else, as it ought to be, “Before my parents passed, I lived in a riverside town, and it was surrounded by swamps and marshes. We had all sorts of wildlife, too. Herons and terns would come and want to steal your shiners if you happened to be by the docks. If you were gutting a fish outside, crows would come and hope you’d give them the scraps. If you tossed the remains in the water, snakes would swim up and eat them.”

“That sounds really cool,” Al breathed, fascinated.

“Someday, we could go there.” Bunny said, “You don’t have to know how to swim, or be capable of it to like being there. You could feed the herons your bait-stealing fish, and we could go foraging for deer sheds if we went during the right time of year. Granted, it _is_ a swamp so there are spots you don’t want to walk, or you’ll sink in the mud. You have to watch out for marsh vipers, too.” She began coloring one of the orchids with a white pastel.

“…Deer sheds?” Alphonse seemed confused.

“A lot of people use the word ‘horn’ and ‘antler’ interchangeably, but they’re actually pretty different. Deer antlers aren’t permanent; they regrow and shed them each year, and you can go out and collect the sheds. People like using them for decoration. Wild animals like to chew on them.” She tilted her head, “My parents didn’t hunt deer but we would collect sheds together.”

“What did you do with them?”

“You could sell them, and since antlers are bone, they make really good materials for carving. That was more dad’s thing than mine, though.” Bunny’s expression turned a little pained.

“You knew your parents…when did you get sent to the facility?”

“Twelve, Mom and Dad got hit by a drunk driver,” She answered, switching to a pale green pastel to work on accent colors, and speaking with a tone that suggested _that_ topic was not something she wanted to discuss at the moment, “It was a rough place. Avoid certain places and people if you want to stay safe; best thing to do is behave so they let you wander around outside of curfew hours. That’s how I got to spend all my time outside of school in the library. The place was practically home, the actual facility itself certainly wasn’t.”

“You didn’t have any friends there?”

“Closest thing to a friend was my roommate, and only out of necessity.” Bunny switched pastels again, “Lots of kids had serious problems, and it wasn’t uncommon for fights to break out, or for people to steal from someone or trash their stuff. Place was awful, so I kind of avoided everyone. I’m around you and Ed constantly, but I actually used to be really solitary, where I didn’t want to interact with people. The only reason that doesn’t show is because I never get to talk otherwise, now.”

She then decided the subject matter was going towards a negative direction, and that it needed a change, “What kind of stuff did you and Ed do? I know we didn’t get to go to the Sheep Festival that one time since it was raining and Ed wasn’t doing too well.” Because barometric pressure messed with the metal on his ports, and while the expansion and contraction were not enough to cause a serious health emergency, it gave him a nasty throbbing pain during rainstorms. The Sheep Festival was the biggest annual event in Resembool, and apparently lasted for a full three days, but Ed had not expressed interest in going even when the weather cleared. While Al was doing better now, he had still been adjusting to his new body, at the time, and had not been comfortable going in public without his older brother around to help deflect questions. Ed had still been getting used to his automail, as well, occasionally tripping and stumbling in an uncoordinated way.

“You mean before you came to live with us?” Al asked.

Bunny nodded.

“Well, there was this lake we used to go to and we could go fishing and see if we could catch stuff. We actually got a few photos of Ed smiling, when we caught stuff. You probably noticed he doesn’t usually smile for the camera.”

The chimera snickered a little, remembering Pinako’s memory wall. Ed was not the sort of person who posed or smiled for a photograph, and it was apparent. Although there were a few where he was actually grinning, a lot of the images suggested he had been grumpy or irritated at the photographer or people he was with—namely Winry. If he was not in some way glaring, he looked resigned, suffering the visual record of his life while trying to ignore it was there.

It was overwhelmingly like Bunny’s childhood photos. The chimera, as a human, had found little interest in smiling unless she genuinely felt like it. School class photos had always, then, been marred by the single girl who did not even show her teeth, but looked at the camera, almost seeming bored. A part of her wondered how Alphonse would interpret the information, if she told him, so she did. “I actually didn’t learn how to smile for a camera until I was…eight? It’s still funny to look at the photos, though. There’s always that one person that’s like, ‘why am I here?’”

Al giggled, at that, “I actually can’t picture you not smiling in photos. You smiled in the ones you took with us.”

“Because why _wouldn’t_ I smile if I got to pose with you? Go on, tell me more.” Being part of the photos on Pinako’s wall, if Bunny was honest, had meant far more to her than she would ever say aloud. It made her really and truly feel like she was part of their _family_, and after having gone for so long without one, it meant the world to her.

Alphonse’s eyes, the red points of light, seemed to squint, which was his form of a smile, it seemed. “So, we caught a few fish, and then the line snapped and we lost the hook.”

“Oh, it stinks when that happens.”

“Well, we already knew alchemy, and brother had a piece of metal in his pocket. I think he might have found it on the floor at Winry and Granny’s place, because it was a screw. He transmuted it into a new hook, and we caught another fish…but…”

“What?”

“An eagle dove down and snatched it before we could pull it in.”

“…that’s a twist.” Bunny commented. She was very used to birds trying to steal fish no longer on a hook, like the herons and terns, but that was usually bait. On one odd occasion a duck—because as it turned out, ducks did occasionally eat small fish—had tried to swallow the bait she had casted out, resulting in a complicated rescue on her father’s part because it got tangled in Bunny’s line instead. She had never seen an eagle, specifically, try to steal a hooked fish, but it was hardly surprising that one could.

“We were really surprised.”

“I’ll bet you were; I grew up in a fishing town and I’ve never seen an eagle do that. I guess I should have figured it could happen, though.” There was a quiet lull, before she asked something else, “What about the Sheep Festival? Is it really only the sheep?”

“Oh, well, there are lots of sheep…it really wouldn’t make sense if there weren’t, though. People come to visit and they set up stalls and sell things like cotton candy and caramel apples. There’s other stuff, too, like games you’d find at a fair.” He thought for a moment, “I should probably add cotton candy to my list of things I want to have when I get my body back.”

“Do it, not having it on your list is a crime.” Bunny deadpanned. “That was my mom’s favorite thing, actually…along with this really weird pasta you’d make using salmon and white wine.”

“…salmon and wine? The alcohol cooks out of food, right?”

“Yeah, it leaves a certain flavor in the dish. The sauce was made using white wine, and it had the salmon, something called capers—still not sure what they are, but they’re some sort of plant-based food…oh great now I’m going to go crazy wondering—and then these purplish olives called kalamatas. Not everybody likes it, though, and I’m not really sure I remember the recipe. I wasn’t really a cook nor did I ever properly learn. I did, though, help with things like picking herbs out of the little garden we kept, and I _can_ follow a recipe. I know a few things just from sitting in the kitchen and keeping her company.”

She looked at a multicolored paw, “…probably shouldn’t cook, though. Fur like mine seems like a fire hazard, or at the very least, liable to become part of the meal. I don’t think I want to wear a hair net on my arms.”

“I think you should _still-_” Alphonse abruptly stopped in the middle of his statement, because at that moment, his voice had abruptly gone hoarse and lower-pitched. He sort of froze, then, and Bunny stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Your voice is changing, Al,” She breathed, feeling something very much like relief wash over her. It did not matter that he was in armor, after all.

“O-oh…that’s what it is.” He spoke slowly, almost as if he was afraid it would happen again. His voice remained slightly deeper, even then. “How long does this take before it’s done?”

“A few years.” Bunny unhelpfully replied, having no clear idea, because she knew about how _girls_ developed, not boys. Women’s voices changed, too, but it was not usually as obvious or as distinct as it was for men. The chimera’s voice was simply becoming less warped, as time passed, and in another year she would probably sound almost completely human, save for the growling resonance. What she knew about chimeras from research suggested they actually lived much longer than their components did, and as far as she could tell, she genuinely was an adolescent, even fused with several creatures that had been adults. Her voice change reflected that in subtle ways, she was still developing, somehow.

She looked forward to having a voice that wouldn’t make people flinch back with horror, because she was sure it had struck people as disturbing, even beyond the fact that the dog was talking and apparently human. Bunny could also say she was grateful that, at least lifespan-wise, she would probably still live as long as a normal person, even though the lifespans of her animals were much shorter than a human’s. At least her life was not shortened by her kidnapper, in addition to all of the other things she had to deal with. The same could be said for Al, in the sense that his armor would not prevent him from developing. He would have the voice of a boy his age.

Turning her focus back to Alphonse, she spoke again, “I’m just glad that your voice is going to change, Al. I know you might think it’s embarrassing, but it means you’re growing up, just like your brother. Ed will be happy, I think.”

“He’s going to make fun of me.” Al responded with a hint of a whine, his voice seeming unstable then.

“You can make fun of him back, you know. It’s not like his has evened out, either.”

“What about yours?”

“Glad to not sound like a dying crow if I sing.”

Wandering around the military dorms, apartments, and warehouses was not something Bunny did often, but she had wanted some fresh air, after witnessing Ed laughing hysterically at his brother’s voice change, and Al proceeding to jab back, starting a minor squabble. Although she resembled a massive dog, several people let their pets run loose around the area, including Riza Hawkeye. If the Lieutenant could get away with letting Black Hayate run loose, and a rottweiler like Ranger could roam free despite being considered an aggressive dog breed, then nobody had any right to complain about Fullmetal’s dog.

Even so, Bunny found herself surprised when she rounded the corner of a warehouse and came nose-to-nose with Black Hayate, and Hawkeye wearing civilian clothing, carrying a bag of groceries. The chimera jumped back a bit, startled, and so did Black Hayate, before she began looking around, ears twitching as she tried to determine if people were within earshot.

“Bunny? What are you doing out here on your own?” Hawkeye asked, seeming honestly surprised to see her there, and more notably, without the brothers in tow.

After determining the area was deserted, the chimera spoke, “Al’s voice broke, Ed is laughing at him, Al’s fighting back, and in general, brotherly bonding and me wanting to stretch my legs.” Bunny summarized, while Black Hayate sniffed at her legs.

“Had to get out of the dorms for a bit of quiet?” Hawkeye did not say it aloud, but the faintest upward turn at the corners of her mouth suggested that she might have been glad, just like Bunny and Ed, that Al’s voice was developing normally.

“Basically. I adore them both, but this is one place not in the middle of the wilderness where I can run loose and people won’t really care. I normally don’t have a leash in East City, but I have to stay near Ed and Al for safety reasons. I can be all on my own out here without fear of repercussions.” She then noted the groceries, “Oh, if those are heavy, I won’t hold you up. Sorry, I don’t get to talk to you very often.”

“No trouble at all, Bunny. You can walk with us back to my apartment if you want and we can talk until then.”

“Really?” She wagged her tail at that. She could not help it, when she was surrounded by men most of the time. Winry was in Resembool and Gracia was in Central City. What contact the chimera had with Hawkeye was minimal, at best, because she was absent during mission briefings keeping Mustang’s staff in order. The times that Bunny and the Lieutenant were in the same room, it was usually alongside people who were unaware of the chimera’s secret, forcing her to resort to dog-like communication methods. “I’d like that a lot.”

She stepped aside and allowed Hawkeye to pass her, before following, walking next to her.

“So you and the boys are still in the dorms? I heard Ed had food poisoning.”

“He was still a bit off this morning, so Al and I force- I mean _convinced_ him to stay one more day and rest.” The slip of the word ‘forced’ was deliberate. It was really not possible to force Edward Elric to do anything, though. The only time Ed would _listen_ to advice that he needed to sit still, was if he actually did feel horrible, and genuinely needed or wanted the rest. The nap seemed to have improved his condition considerably, and the chimera had a feeling they would collect some food and set out of East City on foot tomorrow morning. It was for the most part a straight shot east to reach Cameron, and railroads would not get them any closer or speed up their journey. They could probably hire a cab driver, but a lot of them did not want to take pets, a good number of cars would not fit Alphonse and Bunny both because they were giants, and additionally, the chimera would have to be silent the entire trip.

“So you got him to rest?” Hawkeye did not laugh but there was the tiniest hint of amusement.

“Yes, ma’am. He didn’t sleep well last night, so he didn’t fight us too much over it.” Bunny sniffed briefly barely discernible except for the twitching of her nose, trying to figure out who else might be wandering around the area, if any. She picked up the dogs from the military police, and their handlers, but that scent was faded in a way that suggested they were absent. Strong sense of smell or not, it was still possible to sneak up on bears, and the chimera by extension. Hawkeye and Black Hayate’s scents were around the area, and since Bunny did not identify them as a threat, she did not consciously register that they might have been approaching, having been too deep in thought to notice. She was actively scenting the area, though, now. “So how was your day?”

“It’s been going well. Ran out of a few things so I was making a trip to restock the fridge.”

“That’s good. I think later me, Ed, and Al are going to go and have to do something similar. We take trains when we can, but Cameron is going to be a journey on foot, so we’ll have to do a supply run.”

“Are you looking forward to it, in spite of it being a mission?”

“I draw animals and botanicals all the time, but looking at a photograph or an entry in a book doesn’t capture the depth of what you see with your own eyes, right in front of you. I can be the most amazing artist ever, and I’ll never be able to do that, no how beautiful the end product is. The mission comes first, but with the three of us together, we can resolve a lot of situations quickly, even if someone has weapons.”

“You got shot a few months back, didn’t you? In Ohpihezba? I’m a little surprised you don’t have a scar from it.”

“Oh…right…I never really told you in much detail exactly what my makeup was, did I? I’m part spiny mouse, this species that lives in the Great Desert. Spiny mice actually lose their skin when something grabs them, like a defense mechanism. You could poke a hole in my ear or even take the whole tip off, and it would grow back.” Her ears then flattened, “Not…that it doesn’t still hurt.”

“Have you ever thought of getting a tactical vest for protection? Although traditional sizes wouldn’t fit, I’m sure the boys could help you with that.” She suggested, “It would protect you from grazes or bladed weapons.”

“I’m on the fence about it. It would be useful, but at the same time, I’d have to ask Ed or Al for help if I wanted to remove it, probably. I don’t mind them like I do other people, because they’ve been helping me with things like bathing for years, now…but…to be honest…”

“…It still bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“…Yeah…” Bunny replied, looking down at the ground a bit, “I developed a lot of arrays that manipulate drawing media, and while I can do some cool tricks with them, the main purpose is eliminating the need to wash my hands with soap and water. If I have an array, I can use that to clean my hands, and I don’t need to ask someone to help me scrub it out of my fur. If I was a normal human, it would be lazy or excessive, but for me, it gave me back some of the autonomy I lost, when I got put in this body.” She cast her gaze out over the warehouses as they slowly made their way across the property, “Is it…stupid that I don’t want to ask about something for my own protection, because it would be upsetting to remember that I need help taking off the harness?”

“How you feel isn’t stupid, Bunny,” Hawkeye looked down at her, and Black Hayate wagged his tail. “What happened to you, though, isn’t your fault. Even if you need help, it’s not something you should feel ashamed of. I think you should get a vest, because it’ll keep you safe, and the boys wouldn’t be the only people who would be upset, if you got hurt.” She gave a small smile, then, “Besides, you’re not a police dog. You can wear whatever vest you want, and with skills like yours, it won’t even look like armor, will it?”

Bunny stared up at the woman, stunned for a moment, before grinning at her, “No, it wouldn’t.”

“Well, we’re at my place.” They stopped at the steps of a set of military apartments.

The chimera looked over her shoulder in the distance, “I’ll probably head back and see how the boys are doing, then.”

“Alright, then,” Hawkeye moved to go up a set of stairs and was stopped by Bunny’s words.

“Hawkeye?”

“What is it?”

“…Thank you…” The chimera’s voice was barely above a whisper, and her ears pinned back for a moment, as a commotion started in the distance from some approaching officers. Bunny hoped that her eyes and expression conveyed for the Lieutenant everything words could not, before she turned and left, heading back towards the dorms where her boys were.

Maybe she _would_ get a tactical harness, after all. It would be a fun creative exercise, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I can't see any ocean in Amestris and not everything about the landscape is set in stone, I am basically playing with the natural environment. Bunny's hometown area is along the eastern border of the South Area, and is based off of Florida, except with freshwater instead of salt. The Eisnabe mountains are basically the Himalayas, but because again, there is no ocean that I can see, there might be some New World species mixed with Old World ones in this fictional world.
> 
> Fun fact, I know the original FMA has nobody wearing a bulletproof vest, but this actually seems really odd, considering that in the real world by their time period we were already designing and experimenting with those. As militaristic as Amestris is, it makes sense that they would actually have something like that.
> 
> Now to explain why nobody wears one.
> 
> (On the tactical vest thing)
> 
> Bunny, looking at a vest Ed made that is bright red and covered with spikes, complete with shoulder pads and leg armor: Ed, let me design the vest, please? I'm the one that has to wear it.
> 
> Ed: But it looks cool!
> 
> Al: Brother, she can't even move properly in that.


	14. Art Consoles Those Broken by Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunny gets a fancy ballistic vest, and the trio sets out to break up a massive poaching operation in Cameron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a very long time to write, both because Bunny gets her ballistic vest (I had to think up a design) and because this chapter got a lot darker than I thought it would, and to the best of my ability I wanted to get it right. So now I'll break down things in my notes. (The title is based on a quote by Vincent Van Gogh)
> 
> Firstly, Bunny is a character who has coped with the equivalent of several years of hostile situations, not just the alchemist and her kidnapping, but effectively, the entire time she was in the facility. I researched the psychological effects and environments of institutions for the sake of figuring out how to portray what the facility was like, and while I might not be entirely accurate, I tried to take things into account. The bottom line, is orphanages are not good places. Children present at a young age often do not get the proper interaction they need to develop properly, and a whole mess of other issues creep up relating to this. You also have inconsistent caretakers who vanish before the children can bond with them. What happens is the children learn to be self-reliant at a young age, but they often don't develop healthy habits socially. Bunny's avoidance of other children at the facility, while it might seem antisocial, was a mechanism for shielding herself from harm, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Her capacity to get along so well with others, I largely attribute to her life before she was orphaned, because Bunny actually had very good parents, and that gave her a solid foundation. Had she been younger at the facility, she would have had far more problems.
> 
> This in mind, relating to her situation, Bunny is actually not okay, but as a contemplative character with strong emotional control, and a background of constantly dealing with other people failing to attend to her needs, she is highly self-reliant, to the point that it is detrimental, on some level. She does not know how to ask help, or more specifically, fears ridicule and rejection, most of all from the Elric brothers, because they do serve as her caretakers and emotional support. As she slowly grows to trust people it becomes easier for her to open up, but some things are always going to be harder to discuss. This chapter explores that aspect of her character, as well as the overall darker parts of her psychological state, which stem from her avoidant attachment tendencies as well as several forms of trauma, beyond just the obvious ones.
> 
> I would like to also note that Bunny may hold ideas about who she is as a person that are grossly inaccurate to what reality is. Someone could be better than they think they are, or they could think they're an amazing person and actually be horrible. Bunny may hold contradictory ideas about herself.
> 
> Heavier stuff out of the way, after scrapping about five designs (Between kimonos and felted flowers), I settled on Bunny's vest, and it...kind of goes with the outfits Ed wears and Al's armor? It's pretty flashy and striking and I do think it goes with a certain motif I planned on using for Bunny. I don't watch Game of Thrones, but researching ideas and internet coincidences led me to fall in love with their costume designs, which are so detailed you can't fully appreciate them through the actual show alone. Specifically, Bunny's ballistic vest is inspired by the character Cersei's outfits, primarily those found in Season 7, though I do pick and choose features.
> 
> Encoding a URL since I'm learning to code HTML for a site that showcases some of the costume images, for those who are interested. You may be able to guess which outfit ideas I borrowed. Someone comment and let me know, if the link doesn't work.
> 
> [To Dress a Queen: The Season 7 Costumes of Daenerys and Cersei](https://www.makinggameofthrones.com/production-diary/to-dress-a-queen-the-season-7-costumes-of-daenerys-and-cersei)
> 
> Anyway, I hope everyone likes this chapter! I worked really hard on this one! Though it might feel like a punch to the gut, too.

Returning back to her standard military apartment from work yielded something unusual. When Hawkeye climbed up the steps to where her residence was on the second floor, a small piece of cardboard had been carefully tucked against the doorknob, addressed to her, from a set of initials, _B. L._ Although she did not know the handwriting, the elegance and readability of it echoed Edward’s, or more accurately, Ed’s handwriting was an echo of _hers. _Hawkeye had a very good idea of who had left it there, so rather than take it as some sort of prank, or some salesperson who had dared sneak onto military property, she gently took the cardboard—two pieces, she realized, pressed tightly together and taped—and looked at it thoughtfully.

Taking out her key and opening her apartment door, she went inside, where Black Hayate sat in the entry area, wagging his tail and staring up at her adoringly. She knelt down and scratched him between the ears, earning an affectionate lick on her wrist, before going over to a desk and sitting down.

Hawkeye carefully undid the tiny slivers of tape that held the two cardboard pieces together, and opened them, revealing something colorful folded in sheets of parchment paper. When she pulled them away, it revealed a soft pastel drawing of a heron skull, covered with some sort of orchid she was unfamiliar with. A letter was adhered to the interior of the cardboard cover, though, that she had just removed.

> _To Hawkeye,_
> 
> _I finished this drawing yesterday, and decided to give it to you, as a thanks for the kind advice. Normally I prefer to give people my work in person, but because the boys are in a rush, I had to settle for leaving it on your door. It’s a great blue heron skull with ghost orchids, hopefully you like it._
> 
> _B.L._

Hawkeye honestly did not have any artwork in her entire military apartment. It had never seemed important to her, but she knew that Bunny rarely seemed to part ways with any of her work. The only person she knew of who had any of the chimera’s drawings, apart from perhaps the Rockbells back in Resembool, was Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. He kept an unsigned ink drawing that looked like a photograph in his wallet, and in private had told her and the Colonel the chimera had made it for him using alchemy, as some sort of demonstration. This pastel drawing that Bunny had made was signed using her initials, the ‘B’ obvious, and an ever-elusive ‘L’ surname that had the Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel both scratching their heads with confusion.

It was smaller, probably a standard size, if she were to guess. On her next off day she could perhaps go and buy a frame for it. It was unusual, but then again, the Lieutenant had not contemplated what kind of artwork she liked in a very long time. She could not tell people who the artist of the gift was, but people would hardly care, when artists were generally excused for their eccentricities. The faintest of secret smiles graced her features.

One of the greatest benefits of Edward being a State Alchemist was that, when Bunny asked him about the possibility of getting a bulletproof vest, he was able to go to a military vendor during their supply run for the trip to Cameron, and simply flash his watch. He was allowed to purchase two level III ballistic canine vests, few questions asked. Fullmetal was known for traveling in the company of a very large dog that he used as an assist when apprehending difficult suspects, and even if Bunny was not a formal police dog, her size and reputation was enough to justify the expense. The only questions they were asked by the vendor was what kind of potential threats did they want to protect Bunny from, the most. The end result was choosing a higher-ranked vest that would stop all forms of bladed weapon, resist a shot from any kind of smaller handgun, and for good measure, could even handle lower-caliber rifles.

To be more specific, the bulletproof areas of the vest were over the chest, back, and sides, where steel plates were a part of its design. There was no guarantee, even with the strength and layers of polymer used for the rest of the vest, that it would stop a bullet. Bunny’s vest was transmuted using the original two, and the boys had torn open one of them to examine how it was made, and to make sure they did not mess up the thickness of the plates. Failing to recreate the plates correctly meant messing up their estimated resistance.

The end ‘base’ ballistic vest was one that possessed a flap along the back that covered portions of the flank, with three buckles on the right side. Having been transmuted just for the chimera, there was no need for major adjustment, because it was perfectly made to fit her, so there was little slack tucked beneath the buckles. One buckle went over her shoulder, while the other two closed along her side. Excess handles or patches had been removed, being unnecessary, and the interior of the vest was lined with padding that both cushioned the weight of the vest and allowed air to circulate between Bunny and the garment, helping to prevent her from overheating. Although the chimera could sweat over her entire body like a human, she still had a fur coat to worry about.

The aesthetic design of the vest, then, had been contributed to by adding a layer of black cotton sharkskin twill, leveling out where the armored pads went to make the surface smooth like a suit or dress, and providing a base for further design work. The first detail was that the chest and sides of the vest had spots of shiny silver thread that twinkled like stars, prevalent enough to give the fabric an almost metallic appearance. Layered a bit so that it looked almost like a jacket, cloak, or cape draped over another garment, the back of the vest had a border using two rows of staggered silver studs scattered along its edges, the lack of embroidery giving it a flatter appearance.

The most striking feature of the vest was that the very center of the back, layered portion of it was completely blank, save for a single thing that dominated the center, running down Bunny’s back, and clearly meant to draw the eye. Set over smoother, shinier fabric that seemed more like leather and almost looked like an armor plate itself that ran up to the back of her neck, were flaps of fabric with reflective centers, narrow at the base of the neck, growing wider across the shoulders, and then tapering again near the flank. The flaps were shinier in their centers, and had reflective silver herringbone embroidery on the edges. The pattern strongly called to mind the belly of a snake, and it sinuously mirrored the chimera’s movements. The straps connecting the ballistic vest’s top and bottom seemed to be what held the back piece on, so they had been given silver embroidery that mirrored the spine.

Overall, it was still a vest, but it resembled something that aristocratic people would have worn centuries ago, or what people playing royalty might have worn in a play. It was not what one would have expected on a dog, but Bunny liked the end result. It looked feminine, because of the overall pattern, and the spine was clearly feminine, featuring no sharp edges. It was nice, Bunny thought, when not a single person mistook her for male when they left East City, in the whispers she could overhear. The vest was called ‘eerie’ and ‘beautiful’ in equal amounts. Her collar went well with it, she personally thought. The boys had been happy for her.

Showing up, in Cameron, then, had been interesting with the usual onlookers who noticed a suit of armor and a giant dog, Ed and Al across from each other at a patio table, Bunny resting curled up next to Alphonse’s leg. She made a conscious effort, at times, to keep track of whose legs she had sat next to previously, so she could go sit next to the other sibling, whenever another occasion like this one rolled around. It was generally tempting to sit next to Ed each time, because human limbs were softer and _warm_, but that would not be fair to Al. Even if he could not feel Bunny there, he would still register her presence. Granted, she could not feel much through the vest, so the temptation was much less, now.

A whisper-thin waiter with blonde hair and stubble on his face came over, wearing a pastel pink apron over a white shirt and jeans. A brief glance at his features revealed that his eyes were blue, with the right one seeming odd. The pupil was blown wide, never changing in size, and when the man tilted his head, it was apparent that he was moving as if he were blind on that side. “Hello, sirs, what can I get for you today?” He asked, holding a pad of paper in one hand and a pen in the other, faintly twitching a pinkie on his left hand as if it were a nervous tic.

Ed gave his order, and the waiter turned to Alphonse, “What about you?” He asked.

“O-oh, I’m not really hungry. Could you maybe get us some water for Bunny, though? We just got here.” Al once again was forced to deflect people from realizing he was incapable of eating. It never stopped feeling awkward or painful, for that matter. One of the main things Al missed about his human body seemed to be food.

“Bunny…what an interesting name…” the waiter murmured, amused, “Are you costume designers? Her outfit is impressive.”

“We know a lady,” Ed offered vaguely, while Bunny simply wagged her tail, ears pricking forward.

“Well, tell her she did a stellar job. I’ll be right back with your orders.” The man walked away, then, disappearing into the restaurant to give the cook an order for enough food to feed an army. If Ed’s appetite had been surprising, the waiter had not even registered it. Bunny suspected that even if the waiter thought food would be wasted—she knew Ed would eat every bite, though—he did not care so long as the customer paid for it. It also felt nice to have her work complimented openly, but she suspected something. The man showed few outward signs, but absolutely reeked of anxiety and fear.

She gently tapped a claw against Al’s leg, the gentle clinking getting his attention. He looked down, and then turned his head to see if anyone was walking by that would listen if she spoke. Bunny knew, though, that nobody was within earshot for the moment, at least, not if she whispered, so she went ahead and spoke, “That man is scared, and not of us.” She whispered.

Al gave a small nod and looked over at Ed, “Should we ask him?” The exchange clearly meaning the man’s eye. Realistically, there was no absolute link between the man’s stress and his damaged sight, though there was a chance there could be. He might have been stressed due to his job, and simply hid it well, but there was a very abnormal amount of it, coming from him, and from people within Cameron’s population in general. It put Bunny on edge, and it was enough that the bit of fur still visible beneath her vest wanted to stand on end. The brothers had probably noticed, too, the vague traces of terror.

Ed nodded, and when the waiter came back with a tray laden with food, the elder sibling waited for him to set it down and place a bowl of water on the ground for Bunny, before speaking, “What happened to your eye?” He said it abruptly, in a way that made the man flinch.

The waiter blinked, before giving a brief, yet discernible glance around, “An accident, damaged my optic nerve and now I can’t see out of this eye.” A flash of light, then, caught him in his good eye, and he looked down to where Ed had probably discreetly fished out his State Alchemist pocket watch. He would immediately hide it again, because sometimes it was better, the three had learned, to keep his status a secret, at least in a place like this where something was clearly wrong.

The waiter trembled visibly, then, before taking a deep breath, and putting on a cheerful smile, leaning down as if he were simply trying to engage, “So, I gotta get the number of this lady who designed your dog’s outfit, would you write it down for me? I got a dog at home and I’d love to see what she could do for him.” Clearly, he meant it as a cover.

Ed fished out his journal from his pocket and tore out an empty page, and the waiter handed him his pen. The man then spoke in hushed tones, “Be careful who you show that watch to, alchemist, sir,” He warned, smile becoming tense. “There’s people who’ll shoot you if they realize you’re with the state, we’ve got a poacher’s ring going on, and they’ve practically taken over.” Ed wrote down the information on one half of the note as the man spoke.

Ed whispered a question, “Where’d they set up their operation?”

“North side of town, in the warehouses next to the textile mill. Please be careful, if you’re here to deal with them. We’re desperate, they’ll maim or kill to make a point. I’m half-blind, I don’t want to see you wind up the same way.”

Edward wrote a scribble on the note, and tore it in half, handing one piece to the waiter along with his pen, and quickly pocketing the information he had been given. “Here’s her number,” He said, louder, as if no exchange discussing criminal activity had occurred.

“Thank you, stranger,” The man smiled as he took the note, before retreating into the restaurant. The scent of tears hit Bunny’s nose, soon after, and she realized that the waiter had begun crying as soon as nobody would see.

These poor people were terrified.

“What are you picking up from over here, Bunny?” Ed whispered. It was in the middle of the night. Alphonse had woken up the two biological members of the trio after a few hours of rest, so that they could work on busting up the poacher’s operations under the cover of darkness. They were currently standing on the far side of the textile mill, an enormous red brick building with high windows that let light in but prevented people from seeing the interior, and a single, massive smokestack rising above it like a tower. Stray fibers clung to everyone’s garments, peskier than Bunny’s fur or Edward’s hair, and the chimera idly wondered how easy it was to breathe inside the factory. Even outside the building there seemed to be a lot of floating particles.

Bunny, thankfully, did not sneeze, and was able to easily catch smells from the warehouses on the other side of the mill; once they got closer than where they were currently, there was no guarantee of safety. The chimera could not help, when she scented the air, the slight shudder that went through her limbs. A large number of animals, accompanied by the reek of waste, blood, and _rot._ It was disturbing and memories wanted to claw back into the forefront of her mind when she detected so many similar things. The only reason she did not completely fall apart was that many humans were also present, and the tell-tale stench of _him_ was not there. She was able to suppress the fact that she was bothered, to some extent.

“I can’t tell how many people, but that guy was telling the truth…this smell’s bringing back some really nasty memories, for me.”

“The alchemist?” Al asked quietly.

“…Yeah…he’s not here, but I’d know the smell of caged or dead animals anywhere. It’s probably mostly furs and musk trade, but they’ve got some live specimens. I’m picking up soil and that green smell that plants give off, so they’re probably stealing plant life, too.” Her ears pinned back, “Probably not going to survive the shock of getting moved, or be able to handle wherever they’re taking it. Likely some traditional medicine nonsense; people don’t consider their stuff might not be legal.”

Ed pulled his hood over his head, “Well, let’s get going, then, can you figure out where most of the people are, so we aren’t wandering right into them?”

“We go left and come out behind the warehouse, not near the entrance facing the street.”

“Well, here goes nothing,” Ed murmured, clapping his hands and pressing his left palm over his automail arm, transmuting the forearm into a sharp blade. Taking the lead, he ran in the direction Bunny had indicated, with the chimera and Alphonse following close behind. Slight clanking came from Al’s armor, and Ed’s footsteps had the faintest irregularity to them when he moved. Bunny’s claws scraped faintly against concrete, as they went along the back of the factory, defaced with spray-painted white and black graffiti, forming words the chimera could not properly read. They were nearly invisible away from the streetlights, save for the faintest sparkle of human eyes, a dim red glow, and the white gleam of an animal’s gaze. Their silhouettes would be almost invisible.

Ed glanced around the corner in the gap between the factory and the warehouse, before waving for his two companions to follow him. They went and crossed the alleyway to stand behind one of their target buildings. The first warehouse was a gigantic shed-like structure formed from cheap wooden planks, and through them, the three could hear muffled speech, as well as bleating and snorting, consistent with ungulate animals. There were likely various kinds of deer or goat inside the building, along with a lot of humans. Here, Bunny was able to distinguish snatches of conversation.

_“-a buyer in Central-”_

_“-maker wanted at least five kilograms of musk-”_

_“-at least thirty pelts for a shipment-“_

Bunny felt a twinge of rage and sorrow; how many animals were they actively planning on killing? Thirty, minimum, but the musk deer was captured for its musk, not its pelt, and the glands producing the aromatic substance could only be found in the abdomen of male animals. Musk was possible to reproduce artificially, using chemical formulas, not even involving alchemy, but that did not stop shameless individuals from killing animals for a single organ, whether it be their skin or a gland.

Alphonse pulled out a piece of chalk, and Bunny and Ed got behind him; letting Al go first was what the group typically did, since if someone had a gun on their person, the bullets would just ricochet away. Al put his hand over the circle when he had finished sketching it out, which took almost no amount of time at all, “I’m starting,” He whispered, “One, two-“

On the third beat, a transmutation lit up to form a plain set of wooden double-doors, and he ran through, to a chorus of shouts, while Ed and Bunny followed close behind. There was the sound of a gunshot being fired, followed by a man crumbling to the ground, clutching his foot; relatively lucky that a non-vital spot had been hit by the ricochet. The warehouse, on its interior, was concrete flooring, with bales of straw piled up along the walls, alongside low palettes bearing piles of animal fur, and tables with round, fur-covered pods that Bunny knew were musk glands. Other tables bearing strange roots and animal bones were set out. Further in, gigantic metal cages loomed, and she could make out a wide variety of creatures, mostly herbivores, now pacing and crying out in a panic. A langur monkey in one cage rattled against the bars, screaming.

The chimera spotted a poacher with a white shirt and jeans withdrawing a pistol from his belt, and she ran over and swatted the weapon from his hands, before tackling him to the ground. His grimacing features revealed several golden fillings in his teeth as he struggled and cursed, his breath reeking of chewing tobacco. Bunny sank her own flawless white fangs into his thigh, pulling him along and then biting another spot along the calf, when he flipped over in an attempt to guard vitals she was not even after. She estimated she was not biting deep enough to puncture an artery, but the muscle damage would make it difficult for him to walk or escape, and he would need stitches.

Being mauled by an animal seemed fitting, even poetic, for catching a poacher. The injuries Bunny left were deliberate, meant to be nonlethal, and the man could consider himself lucky that he had not been attacked by one of the caged animals, who would likely not care whether he died or not.

Ed, behind her, punched a man in the face using his left arm, knocking him out, before slashing apart a gun being aimed at him with his automail blade. He smacked the flat of the blade over that attacker’s head, knocking him out, too. With a clap of his hands straw had been converted into a thick rope that bound the men’s arms behind their backs, and tied their legs together. Lying on the ground, they would struggle to get up or otherwise move in any significant way. They were easier for the police to remove than stone bindings. When he finished with them, he came over and Bunny backed away, allowing him to tie up her own capture.

Alphonse, further ahead, kicked a man off his feet and grabbed another by his arm, swinging him around into two more men, one of them being the first person he had knocked off balance, not having a chance to recover. Ed ran over to join the fray, while Bunny sniffed and charged past them, catching a fleeing straggler by his arm outside the building, and hurling him at a fleeing woman who smelled of the deer musk; customer or poacher, both were guilty. The man collided into her spectacularly, and Bunny wasted no time in going for the calves of both, biting the man and scratching the woman so they would struggle to flee.

A gunshot went off, and she felt it miss its mark, zooming over her head, when she turned to look at a trembling young man who looked like a rich person’s kid, if she were to summarize his appearance. Purple coat covered in sequins, golden tie, and hair greased. He did not look like the rest of the poachers, as fancy as he was dressed, but Bunny did not hesitate to go after him, as well, the man hitting the ground in front of him with a bullet, too nervous to aim, when a clawed hand wrapped around that wrist and elicited a cry of pain.

No mercy for this man, either. A bite to the calf, removal of the weapon, probably ending with a wrist sprain. Terrified or not, he had pointed a weapon at her.

Not including the people still inside the warehouse that the boys were still fighting, that made a total of six people they had subdued. Looking around, it appeared that if there were any stragglers left, they would have to be chased later, having either hid or ran too far. The concrete roads around warehouse area seemed deceptively empty, for the chaos that was ensuing. There may have been only three people fighting—but between the Elric brothers’ alchemy and fighting prowess, and Bunny’s raw animal strength, they were formidable opponents and could take down numerous enemies.

Bunny turned to the cracked doors of the warehouse she had emerged from, poised to run, and waited.

A few more people burst out of the front of the building, fleeing from the brothers when they realized they were losing, and running right into Bunny, who took them down, pinned them, and would return to snarl in their faces if they tried to get up and escape once she had them lying on the ground. Finally, Edward came out, eyes going wide as he saw eight people crumbled to the ground, calves bleeding and cowering, “Wow, you’ve been catching the guys who ran out, huh?” He commented, as he clapped his hands and transmuted the ground. It rippled and wrapped rings around each of them, officially freeing the chimera to go after more people.

“We must have interrupted a meeting or something,” She spoke quietly to avoid being overheard. “I smell predators in the next warehouse. The rest of the bunch is probably in there. The ones who had common sense left the area, but I can track their scents easily, since they were handling musk.”

“Well, they already know we’re here, so let’s go.”

“Let’s block the front door so they can’t run off.” She whispered, “You can make a new one we can go through. We want to catch as many of them as we can.”

Ed nodded, and clapped his hands, directing a wall to rise in front of the next warehouse, sliding tightly against the wooden planks, so a person would not be able to wiggle through. The two went around and to the side of the warehouse, where Ed made the door, emerging behind a row of cages. Edward stumbled back, startled, when a flash of claws through metal bars came mere centimeters from his face the moment he tried to step into the narrow gap between cage and wall. A snow leopard postured to attack snarled at him, infuriated and helpless in a man-made prison. The neighboring cage held a black bear, giving a whine of distress, and Bunny felt sympathy for both creatures, as Ed inched along the wall and into the room, this time minding the upset carnivores.

Bunny found the predators backing away from her, when she went to follow her human companion, no doubt deterred by her size and scent. Domestic dogs did not care, anymore, that Bunny had a smell that was vaguely wilder than their own kind, given that she was covered in human-scent, and was liked by people they considered trustworthy. No dog other than Den had been suspicious of her, and that was only at the beginning. Pets tended to trust Bunny’s smell, now, but feral or wild creatures had no reason to judge trustworthiness by association. They knew she was dangerous, so they left her alone and directed their rage at Edward, instead, though one could argue he was equally dangerous.

The chimera struggled to slide between the walls and bars, but was able to narrowly fit, if she held her breath, and she rounded the corner to emerge behind Ed. When they stepped out into the center of the warehouse, he was forced to immediately clap his hands and create a wall, mere moments before multiple people began unloading their weapons. One or two clicks that indicated a gun out of ammunition were audible, but there were definitely people who were still armed.

This second warehouse seemed exclusively devoted to carnivores, a mix of snow leopards, tigers, and surprisingly _wolves_, ones with grey markings so pale they almost seemed white. The wolves, though, were no friendlier in appearance than the cats, given that Bunny’s scent was, while canine, completely unrelated to any one pack that might be represented in the warehouse’s imprisoned population. Wolves seldom accepted strange individuals that did not have some sort of blood relation to their own pack; lone wolves generally got together and started their own packs, or died within a year.

Ed spoke, then, “Alright, how about this?” He clapped his hands and pressed them down to the ground, and spikes jutted up from the ground, winding around the wall and into the heart of the crowd of people on the other side of it, gaining a chorus of terrified and angry shouts as it forced them to scatter. Ed gave a jerk of his head to indicate that now was the time to move, and they emerged from around the wall, the human part of their duo launching a flying kick that connected squarely with a man’s face.

“Brother, Bunny, wait for me!” Al came in, then, from where the other two had emerged, having two men gripped by their hair, and smacking their heads together, taking them both out at once. He must have finished dealing with whatever was left of the first warehouse

“You got the rest all tied up?” Edward shouted from where he was flipping a criminal over his shoulder, hurling him into the concrete floor.

“I made sure to use rope as much as possible!”

Bunny, meanwhile, was corralling several people she had disarmed with a well-aimed paw swipe, directing them towards the exit where the wall sealed them in. As long as she snapped at whatever punch or leg was thrown her way, most of them were too scared to do more than bluff. She got them all the way out through the double doors, until a pair of strong arms wrapped around her neck, and she realized a larger man had somehow snuck up on her while she was distracted by numbers. Ed and Al were still inside, and would not immediately see what was going on. When she felt her breathing grow shallow, she realized he was going to attempt to choke her. “No overgrown mutt is going to catch the wolf hunter!” Her attacker snarled in a show of bravado, to a chorus of cheers.

“Kill that sorry mutt!”

“His owners are gonna be _real _sorry!” One South Area accent, another person who mistook the chimera for male, based on her ferocity.

“You got this, man!” The one individual who shouted encouragement at his ally versus death threats towards the enemy when cheering. Bunny would still rip him up if she dealt with him, but maybe he deserved a less serious injury for being just a little nicer.

How arrogant, she briefly thought of her adversary, in a brief moment of calm, collected thought, before she felt her airflow start to cut off.

Something from _back then _surfaced moments later at the burning sensation in her throat. Too familiar a scenario and too many scents that already bothered her. Something venomous hissed in the back of her mind, baring its fangs. Bunny had stopped feeling afraid a long time ago; fear was a thing that confined people, and she had allowed it to control her for five long months when she deserved better. She had been out of her mind with it and helpless, the last time someone had grabbed her like this, and _that_ had been a hold meant to restrain, rather than kill.

She would not fall for the same thing twice.

Without caring for tossing herself around like an animal would, and slightly more flexible in her shoulders, she reached up with her claws and gouged into the man’s arm, _hard_, not bothering to consider if she used too much force or dug too deep. He was cutting off her air supply and she needed to _breathe_. He was trying to strangle her and she needed him _off_. The so-called ‘wolf hunter’ screeched and fell away, stumbling back and trying to staunch off blood flow that told the chimera she might have clipped an artery. She knew she should worry, because if that was the case, he could bleed out, but instead, she felt _anger_, coiling up and daring her enemy to test his luck a second time.

Not even giving a growl in preamble, she lunged, front legs connecting with the man’s chest, and he fell back, eyes blown wide with fear, stare not meeting her gaze, but the rows of bared, gleaming teeth held above his face. On the far side of Bunny’s collar, where the spectators would not see, a transmutation circle glowed, etching through even though it was on the interior when activated, a series of rings centered and arranged bilaterally. The man’s eyes flicked once to his arm at the sensation, before Bunny gave a harsh snarl, dragging his attention back to her face, because she could not allow him to see that there was a so-called miracle taking place.

A major vessel stitched itself shut, and scar tissue began to fill the wound partway, before stopping. It would still bleed, it would still need medical attention and whatever damage was done to this poacher’s arm would be there for the rest of his life, but Bunny sealed his artery. She did not do it because she was scared for him. He represented in a moment of violence something that the chimera could not seem to fully forgive or accept. She saved his life because she knew she was better than someone who killed senselessly, and because the people she _did_ care about would be so bitterly disappointed, if she were to fail to show mercy.

Only a little, she felt disgusted with herself, because she _should_ feel scared or horrified, but she did not. She was so used to seeing violence carried out, so used to enduring an extreme environment where threatening people or actions were the norm. She had gone numb to something that should have gotten more of a reaction than what she gave. She felt no guilt when she drew blood, and she still could not bring herself to feel guilty that she had left a deeper wound, today. Some part of her could not view what she had done as wrong, or a crime.

Bunny wished she could tell someone about all of these ugly things inside of herself, because she knew they were a part of her. She wished she could tell someone about the numbness that sank in, or the thing that lingered on the boundary between her conscious and subconscious mind, waiting to emerge when someone toed the line and went too far. She wanted to talk about how she was_ not_ fine, and how there were days she wanted to cry and scream and grieve over what had been done to her.

But crying in front of people was called weakness, so you picked who you wept in front of carefully—_the boys would never see you as lesser_, a voice soothingly spoke—especially when you had no tears. A girl was not supposed to show rage so openly, so she swallowed it down. Crying was discouraged entirely, because tears never solved problems on their own—_but they do make you feel better,_ a voice whispered—and she held everything inside, so carefully and so well people failed to see.

Bunny was in control, but she was also falling apart, sometimes. _You aren’t there anymore._

She backed away from the man, who made no effort to move, but would no longer bleed to death, and turned a sharp glare onto the three men and one solitary woman that were now pressed tightly against Ed’s transmuted wall, cornered with nowhere to run. She felt tired, but had stopped healing the man before the exhaustion would become too much for her to keep functioning. Bunny was outside the warehouse and the boys were inside, and from the pained sounds she could overhear, were nearly done with their work. All the chimera needed to do was keep these four from grabbing weapons, perhaps even persuade them to surrender.

They did so, immediately, when Ed and Al came through the warehouse’s front. One of the men threw up his arms, the others following his lead, “We surrender! _We surrender!_ Just call off your psycho dog! _Call it off!”_ he screeched frantically, eyes going to the man who had attempted to choke her and failed, then to the growling chimera. Ed said nothing in reply, and clapped, before making stone hands sprout from the ground and wrap around the four final criminals.

He looked to Bunny, raising one brow, and she sniffed, glancing over to see if there was anything else in the area, before giving a small shake of her head. They took up two warehouses with their operations, but Bunny detected no further presences that suggested the poachers were anywhere else.

It was officially over.

Alphonse went over to the wolf poacher, kneeling down, “Bunny, this is a really deep scratch.” He said, recognizing the tissue in the injury’s depths as scarring, rather than normal, untouched flesh.

Late, as always, the sounds of police cars began echoing in the distance, and Ed went over to the wall and used his alchemy to return it to its original state, just as the cars of the Cameron military police pulled up. By the time someone was able to spring from their vehicle, Edward had already pulled out his State Alchemist watch and held it up for them to see.

They caught a total of thirty poachers, that night, and the next morning, after interrogating several of the men and women, the military police captured another fifteen people throughout the town of Cameron, who had criminal connections to their operations. At least twelve more warrants for arrest were issued for the entire East Area, plus three more in Central Area, and two in North Area. Charges ranged from killing or collecting wild species to transporting contraband, and in the case of one military officer, tampering with evidence.

A total of sixty-two criminals were brought to light in the span of a single night. Led by the Fullmetal alchemist, his brother, and their canine companion, a highly successful sting led to the collapse of the Cameron poaching ring.

Bunny, despite not being a military canine, officially reached a record of fifty apprehension assists, fourteen of the criminals apprehended credited to her catching stragglers as they fled.

Walking through the forests from Cameron back to East City was nowhere near as pleasant as when they had went there, even with the tiny bit of sightseeing that the brothers and Bunny had afforded themselves. The chimera had a mental list of flowers and animals she wanted to draw, and she did not allow the lingering scent of deer musk that seemed to waft through the town to stop her from enjoying it. The smell would not have been so bad, except once the animals in cages had been removed by officials seeking to rehabilitate and release them back into the wild, the Cameron military police’s ideas of how to get rid of the contraband had been to burn the two warehouses to the ground.

Most humans had probably smelled the flames when they set the buildings alight, but to the chimera, the stench lingered much longer. Deer musk was not an unpleasant smell; it was used in perfumes and colognes for a reason, but it was mixed with the stink of death and blood and suffering. She could view the fires as something that cleansed the land, but she also could not stop herself from smelling it and having nightmares when she slept. Nightmares of a human body too weak to fight back and being dragged _away. _Part of why she detested people sneaking up from behind, or for touching her in certain areas, beyond female sensibility or a need for personal space.

Now, the lovely deciduous forests on the road were quieter than normal, a stronger breeze picking up, and the sky seemingly white from cloud cover. There was a damp chill and a sense of foreboding that told her she and the brothers would perhaps need to take shelter from a storm, in the near future, if it did not miss them.

After a long, prevailing silence, Ed spoke, “Hey Bunny?”

“Yeah?”

“…You scratched that one guy back at the warehouses…really deep. Al said you had to heal him. Are you okay? You never use too much force.”

The chimera’s thoughts halted, and she took a shaky breath, trying to figure out how to formulate a response.

Al said something, then, “Did he do something?”

That made it easier. She stopped, and the brothers walked past her before realizing she had quit moving. They turned to look back at her, and she stared at her paws in the grass, unable to meet their eyes, and for a moment, missing locks of human hair that would have hidden her face, were she still a normal girl. She hesitantly raised a hand, and touched it to her throat, beneath her chin, “…He tried to choke me…and…” The wind whipped harder, darker clouds appearing in the distance through the tree line, “I remembered the day I was abducted…I just wanted him to let go, and I didn’t think about whether or not I dug too deep…the thing is…I don’t regret doing it. I worry about what other people might say, but I can’t bring myself to feel guilty about hurting him. I felt angry, and scared, and disgusted, and what I did is probably wrong, but I can’t seem to care.”

There was a long pause of silence, before she asked what had made her so afraid to say anything at all, “…Are you disappointed in me?”

“What?! No!…No…because you still didn’t kill him. Bunny, you never talk about what happened…did the guy who kidnapped you…choke you too?” Ed asked the question hesitantly, as if he sensed her anxiety that she was barely hiding. Perhaps he _could._

“…He wrapped an arm around my neck, and…” She took a shaky breath, as a fine misting began, “…h-he shoved a rag…o-over my face…” She forced her words past a lump in her throat, “…a-and then…there was a prick in my leg…and…I couldn’t feel anything, anymore…” her voice choked into a wretched sobbing.

Bunny liked to pretend that when the rain began falling, the droplets running down her face were her tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Linkin Park - Easier to Run 
> 
> Probably the theme for this chapter.
> 
> (Huddled in the wilderness somewhere in a dirt shelter)
> 
> Ed: Well...this sucks...
> 
> Bunny: Hopefully it doesn't last for too long. Sometimes it can rain multiple days in a row...
> 
> Ed: That's even worse!


	15. Truth Shared and Truth Stolen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mustang gives Major Armstrong Bunny's array, and the trio return from their mission in Cameron. They attempt to figure out a way to tell the truth in a way that does not cause problems, while Mustang and Hughes learn a different one that was kept hidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of stuff happens in this chapter, which is basically the equivalent of 'everything is coming together,' but I don't want to say any more because I don't want to spoil it. There are still many secrets not explored, but some relationship dynamics are going to change drastically. I generally want to avoid making the story Bunny-centric, but I also believe that once the main plot starts, it will be very difficult to achieve certain things, so they're happening in the three-year gap period.
> 
> Think of this chapter as special, because Patchwork Guardian has officially exceeded a length of 100,000 words.
> 
> Also, I got to write Major Armstrong in this chapter. I had a lot of fun, however brief it was.
> 
> Mustang continues to be the most difficult character for me to write, but that's largely because it always feels a little strained or tense, when I do scenes involving him interacting with Bunny or Ed and Al. I do think, though, that it's tense because that's really how it is. Writing his character actually isn't so difficult, when he's alone or interacting with others in the cast.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story!

It was easy to tell when Fullmetal was traveling on foot, versus using the railways, because reports from Mustang’s informants, or even military police stationed in an area, would reach him before the actual alchemist did, with his own papers detailing events. What he knew was that as soon as Fullmetal, Alphonse, and Bunny had reached Cameron, they had barely taken the time to rest and recover from their three-day journey, before going after a massive poaching operation in the middle of the night. There were an enormous number of apprehensions related to that one event, perhaps because they had acted too quickly for the criminals to realize that there was a State Alchemist in town. There were additionally a lot of reports on the poachers who had been bitten or clawed by his subordinate’s alleged pet, and photographs of their injuries, which he normally only glanced at in passing.

There was a worrying one in the mix, although the criminal was expected to make a complete recovery. Having confessed to killing at least fifty rare Eisnabe wolves for their pelts, the poacher had only a single injury, neater in appearance than the usual bites and scratches, but somehow far more disturbing. The cut on the man’s outer forearm was a deceptive five centimeters in length, but was covered in blood, and visually-speaking, it was a gaping hole in the man’s arm. Mustang knew enough to recognize that it might have clipped through his ulnar artery, but if it was no longer actively bleeding, that meant that a healing array had been used.

Bunny generally left nasty wounds on her opponents, but was reportedly a prime example of good training, never biting or clawing too deep where the resulting injury would pose an immediate risk to the criminal’s health, beyond making it difficult for them to walk. She generally tackled people to the ground, which could cause bruising on the back or torso, and would go for either the calf or thigh for a bite. Depending on how violently the criminal resisted, she would scratch their back, which normally stopped any struggling. Although her methods were animalistic and drew blood, she knew exactly what she was doing, it seemed. This was the first time she had inflicted a cut that could have been life-threatening due to how deep it was, after nearly two years since Fullmetal had become his subordinate, without incident.

Wolf hunter—that was what some of the poacher’s friends had called him, though he had already confessed to the crime. Mustang doubted that it was specifically because he targeted wolves, _dogs_, that Bunny had used a method that could have been lethal to deal with him. Reports said that the chimera had actually been grabbed in a headlock, and that was when she had scratched him. She had been shot at and threatened with knives, before, but he had never seen her retaliate using anything approaching lethal force.

He would have to ask her directly, when they returned.

The door to his office swung wide open with a crash, then, disturbing him and the rest of his office, “Greetings, everyone!” A signature bellow identified the newcomer, before Mustang had even looked up to see that Major Alex Louis Armstrong had burst into the room. Everyone in his team, save for the Lieutenant, jumped and briefly darted around in a panic, as Armstrong properly entered the room, closing the door behind him as he kept speaking, “Colonel Mustang, I have received your summons! What is it that you wished to discuss?”

This was going to be painful, Mustang could not help thinking, because it went against a lot of norms surrounding how alchemists handled their notes. Technically, they were not his, but he admittedly felt some discomfort at having to share Bunny’s array with Armstrong, because people would begin asking questions that he would have to dodge around. It was true that most individuals would conclude that it was Fullmetal or his brother who had designed the array, but attributing that sort of secrecy to the brothers would seem odd. Fullmetal was more inclined towards boasting about his accomplishments, than claiming he had no link to them.

Though he did hate Mustang a great deal, so perhaps he _would_ want to hide if he had actually shared a discovery he was not obligated to mention.

“Armstrong, nice of you to stop by so quickly. I have something for you,” He pulled open one of the drawers on his desk, withdrawing a stack of handwritten papers, the healing array traced proudly on the front. He offered them to Armstrong, silently wondering where the conversation would go from here. He was grateful he knew how to control his facial expressions, because his staff was staring. It was common knowledge that alchemists coded their notes and guarded them jealously. Bunny’s transmutation circle was not only unrelated to any active criminal cases that involved the use of alchemy, it was completely new and unfamiliar.

Armstrong accepted the papers and looked them over, his eyes widening, “A healing array…” He spoke more quietly, “Intriguing, it is uncommon for alchemists to share their notes. You were given these by someone else, correct?”

Mustang felt the eyes of his team burning holes into him, but remained relaxed in appearance, giving a small nod of confirmation, and steepling his fingers, “I have my own copy, but it was suggested that I share these with you as well. The transmutation circle has been tested, and it works as an emergency treatment, but demands a lot of energy to use. Most alchemists haven’t passed out from using an array perhaps since their early days, but with this one, that is a constant risk. Be careful while using it.”

The Major, of course, was delighted at the prospect of a challenge, striking a valiant pose, “Rest assured, Colonel Mustang! I will learn this array and make good use of it! An excellent task for the artistic alchemy that has been passed down through the Armstrong family line for generations!” He thankfully did not destroy his uniform or take off his shirt. For some odd reason, though it escaped Mustang _why_, he was one of the few people that Armstrong would maintain a somewhat more serious demeanor around. It was more than rank, given plenty of other soldiers bore witness to the Major’s more eccentric behavior.

He tilted his head, “That will be all, Armstrong.” He said, giving his dismissal.

The Major gave him a proper salute, and proceeded to leave, “A glorious day! A means of treating the injured! How delightful! I could shed tears!” He opened the door and closed it behind him, the end waver in his voice telling Mustang that he probably _was_ shedding tears. Armstrong had no inhibitions about weeping openly in front of others. His footsteps were audible for a bit through the hallway, before it fell silent. Mustang’s office immediately returned to life, with Fuery, Havoc, and Breda all crowding around his desk.

“Hey, Colonel, since when do you alchemy types share arrays?” Havoc asked, “Is the world ending?”

Mustang kept his mask, though he knew he was going to have to endure a mild interrogation from his subordinates, now, “It’s a medical array, and it’s difficult to use on your own injuries because of the strain involved. It’s beneficial for multiple people to know it, in case something goes wrong.” He answered. He had reason to believe that this was ultimately why Bunny had given him her notes. In the circumstance that she or Fullmetal were injured, another alchemist might be present to treat them, if it was necessary. The same went for Mustang, or the Major. In a sense, the chimera was protecting people by openly sharing her work. He did not understand why she had named Armstrong as an intended recipient of the array when she had only met him once, but given that Bunny was a decent judge of character, she had perhaps sensed Armstrong’s good intentions and trusted him instinctively.

Fuery, meanwhile, eyed the report from Cameron officials, “Reports from their mission already? Did Ed and Al go after the poachers as soon as they got there?”

Mustang sighed, “They took down the poacher’s base of operations the very night after they arrived in Cameron. They probably saw the situation the locals were in and didn’t want to wait. From previous reports the poachers were killing and injuring people that got near their base, and threatening civilians that wanted to go to the police if they were able to identify their attackers. They were practically taking over the town.” He gave a small smirk, just to throw them off a bit, “I also think Fullmetal and his brother were the best for handling any animals that might have been found alive.”

It was common knowledge that Fullmetal and his brother were good at handling animals, not just dogs and cats, but cattle, sheep, and goats. They could apparently add deer, wolves, big cats, and bears to the mix. Not just domestic pets or farm animals, but large carnivores and animals that were naturally more skittish and not accustomed to human contact. Reports of Fullmetal wrangling the carnivores did not indicate that the creatures immediately trusted him or behaved like something friendlier, however; it was still dangerous work, because predators were ultimately still wild animals. The brothers were simply aware of how the creatures behaved, and were able to adjust their approach based on the information. Being good with animals did not automatically translate to something like petting a leopard on the head and getting away without getting bit.

Even so, Fullmetal’s reputation as an animal whisperer along with his brother had made him popular. He was not just the People’s Alchemist, but he was adored by lower-ranking military police, who consisted of the majority of dog handlers that were employed.

Breda scratched the back of his head, “Well, not gonna argue with you, there. You think they’re gonna be okay heading back?” He asked, “The weather report said we’re going to see a lot of rain for the next few days, and they usually choose to go on foot if they can’t take a train.”

Fuery sighed, “Yeah, Al won’t ever remove his armor even for mealtimes, and we know they’ll never go anywhere without their dog. I don’t like the thought of them getting caught in the rain, though. The road for Cameron is in the middle of nowhere.”

Havoc shifted the cigarette at the corner of his mouth, “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure they’ll just make some umbrellas out of dirt, or something.” The type of material needed for transmuting something like an umbrella, Mustang knew, was more complicated than just whatever could be found in regular soil, but he was not about to launch into a discussion about alchemy his subordinates would be incapable of following. The point remained that the boys—Fullmetal’s team—would be fine.

“Inaccuracies about alchemy aside,” Mustang began, “Havoc is right. Fullmetal and his brother have both had survival training. I doubt that a bit of rain will stop them.”

Falman, over at his desk, frowned, “What kind of twelve and thirteen-year-old kids have wilderness survival training…?” He mused to himself, more than anyone else. The rest of the conversation continued as if nobody had heard him.

“-Unlike you?” Havoc countered, seeing an opportunity to pick at his commanding officer’s most dreaded weakness and taking it.

The Colonel felt a prickle of irritation, “How about you stop smoking, Havoc?” He responded, a bit snappishly, “It would be good for you!”

Havoc simply laughed and walked away, returning to his desk to continue his work.

_…Three days later…_

“Let’s just get this over with.” Edward grumbled, standing before the steps of East Command along with Alphonse and Bunny, all three of them getting drenched in the rain that had started three days ago, and had not properly stopped since. It had made travelling a pain, because in spite of transmuting umbrellas, the wind was blowing hard enough that it was sufficient to nearly yank someone’s arm out of their socket. Even with heavy metal armor or automail, they had to fight to keep the things from inverting themselves or getting pulled out of their hands.

The two biological members of their trio were particularly miserable. Ed had been going for four days without any sort of proper relief for the throbbing around his ports, and he could not take a weak anti-inflammatory like most people would, for dealing with aches and pains. Medicine had zero impact on the expansion and contraction of metal, and the best remedy for barometric pressure pain was a hot water bottle, and generally just taking it easy until the weather passed. Although they did carry hot water bottles, those were only useful if you held still, which was not possible during travels except when you were making camp. Ed was in a particularly foul mood, because he had to deal with his ports acting up, in addition to the typical problems of getting drenched.

Bunny, meanwhile, could not hold an umbrella, and was dependent on Ed and his brother to hold theirs over her, to some extent, so she could stay dry. The problem was that she did not perfectly fit under them, and Ed was—_not short_—barely able to get his umbrella past her shoulders. The end result was that while the chimera’s front and rear were dry, a constant stream of water had been pouring onto her vest, causing concerns such as ruining the fabric, and just the frustration of soggy clothing and fur, as well. The rain was cold, making matters worse.

The chimera gave a whine that held urgency behind it, which roughly translated into a statement of, ‘Well hurry up, it’s raining and I’m freezing!’

The three ascended the steps and went under the massive overhang supported by marble columns, and Ed and Al had to step back hurriedly as Bunny shook out her fur, scattering droplets everywhere. If nobody had been watching, she would have used her water array to remove it completely, but people would ask questions about why everyone was completely dry, even down to their shoes. Ed pulled off his hood, and they entered into the building, passing a wet floor sign. It was quiet, today, a bit of white noise from the rain outside being the only ambient sound. The clanking of Al’s armor echoed through the passageways, along with a faint squeaking from Ed’s boots, and the clicking of Bunny’s claws.

They came to Mustang’s office, where there was now a dent in the door leading into it, from where Ed had kicked it so many times. Normally, he would do so, but he was cold and his automail leg hurt, so instead he opened it normally, entering to see where the team appeared to be wasting time, for lack of a better description. Havoc and Breda appeared to be engaged in some sort of staring contest, while Falman was holding a stopwatch, and Kain had their ‘Book of Bets’ on a desk nearby, quietly spectating. Hawkeye was apparently absent, because the Colonel was fast asleep at his desk and the office was currently in a state of chaos she would not allow.

Nobody noticed them, and Ed quietly looked down at Bunny. The chimera mirrored his mischievous grin, despite looking very tired in addition to damp. Behind him, Al sighed, but it was the fond sort that said he was completely fine with what was about to transpire.

The comfortable silence in Mustang’s office was abruptly broken by a loud, rumbling howl of greeting. The sound was not really obnoxious, but it was completely unexpected, and of an appropriate volume for drawing attention to oneself. Havoc and Breda both blinked at the same time as they startled, and Falman turned to look at the new arrivals. The Colonel shot up from where he had been asleep on his desk, blinking with bewildered wide eyes, as a few papers scattered. Kain, meanwhile, who had not been intensely focused beyond watching everyone else, looked at all of the confused faces and faked a cough, clearly trying to hide the fact that he had found it just as amusing as the new arrivals.

Edward, of course, just laughed loudly, because it had been hilarious, and he had needed a bit of humor. Perhaps waking up the Colonel and ruining a staring contest was a little mean, but then again, the same thing would have happened had he kicked open the door, like usual. Mustang, upon realizing what had happened, rather quickly regained his expressionless officer mask, pressing his fingers together, “Fullmetal, back from Cameron, I see.” He mused in that untouchable authoritative tone he often had. It was bizarre how easily he could move on, as though he had not just been caught off-guard, “and a bit more waterlogged than normal.”

A few of the soldiers stood aside to let Ed approach his desk, and Havoc snorted at the end statement.

“We ran into a bit of a weather problem,” Ed commented, his own face sinking back into a scowl, “The roads were flooded.”

“I imagine it wouldn’t take much for you to view them that way,” Mustang mused.

_“Who are you calling so small he considers a puddle to be a lake?!” _Ed snapped, restraining himself from throwing a punch.

Bunny, next to Alphonse behind him, snorted and made a quiet rumble.

“Yeah, Bunny, great idea. Why don’t we send _him_ out there? We’ve been getting drenched for four days.” Ed shoved his hands in his pockets, and glared at the Colonel, who did not even flinch. It was aggravating, that once the mask was in place, nothing cracked it. He moved on, though, because he had not eaten lunch yet, he needed rest, and he had a chimera in his group that could use roughly the same thing, “I’ve brought my report for the mission.”

Alphonse unzipped a side pocket on their suitcase and withdrew the waterproof folder they used for paperwork, removing a stack of papers and handing them to Ed, who, in turn held them out for the Colonel to take. Mustang looked the papers over, “I do have a few questions, if you’ll follow me to the conference room.”

Ed made a disgusted sound, because he really did not want to have to go through a detailed briefing, “Let’s make it quick, then.”

The three of them left the office, and the remaining officers stared after them.

….

Breda was the first to speak, “Bunny’s got an awesome new vest, huh?”

“Yeah, I would have said something, except Ed looks like he doesn’t feel like chatting.” Fuery chimed.

Havoc spoke next, “How much you wanna bet that the same person who owns the box of pastels also designed the vest? People don’t just make tailored dog vests, but it’s probably easy with alchemy.”

“I would have thought Al, but…” Falman joined, “It looks more like something Ed would do, if he had more taste. I don’t see any skulls or spikes, but the spine down the back is pretty daring.”

Havoc thought this over, “Well, Al wears a suit of armor, so for once I actually can’t say I’m certain who did it, this time.”

“Are we not gonna talk about the array? How much you want to bet one of them designed the array? There’s no way the Boss would let people know he helped the Colonel willingly.” Breda said.

Fuery held up the Book of Bets, “Well, I guess it’s time for us to make another bet, huh?”

The Colonel led them through a series of corridors towards the conference room. Once they were inside, he took his usual place at the desk, and Ed and Al sat down on the sofas. Bunny, as usual, was seated as close as possible on the floor, but avoided the old, threadbare carpet, fearful of ripping it apart with her claws. They had a good reputation at hotels in spite of having the chimera with them, because she was so conscious of whether or not she was causing damage to sofas or wood.

“It might be included in your report, but I want to hear it from you, directly,” Mustang began, “Because you came from Cameron on foot, I’ve received official reports from the local military police before you reached my office. Everything is in order, but something stood out to me, and I intend to find out why things turned out the way they did.” Ed noticed Bunny tense, and felt his own lip curl. Mustang was going to ask about the one poacher, that was the only abnormal thing that anyone could name about the mission. Going in without backup, or doing it immediately after they reached town was actually normal. The chimera had already fallen apart once on the road, trying to tell him and Al. Now she had to tell someone that she did not feel truly comfortable around?

“One of the poachers you apprehended, Bunny, had a very deep cut on their arm. It was different from the kind of injuries you normally leave, and there’s evidence that you healed it with your array after clipping an artery. What happened?”

Ed was prepared to get up and start yelling, but Alphonse spoke, instead, “He tried to choke her, and she couldn’t breathe. She did it to make him let go.” And really, they were not obligated to talk about the reason for why she had gotten scared, beyond that, were they? That it was not just the fear of struggling to breathe, but the fact that it was all too similar to a different headlock from years ago that haunted the chimera in her dreams. Mustang had no right to ask about that, because unlike Ed or his brother, Bunny had never committed any crime to wind up in her current situation.

The Colonel looked at the chimera, “Is this true?”

She gave a nod, rather than speaking.

Mustang thought this information over, the faintest trace of something like confusion over Bunny’s silence showing on his face, before seeming to come to a conclusion, “Understandable, then, and that lines up with the reports. Try to be more careful next time.” _There shouldn’t be a next time, _Ed thought. There was no reason for Bunny to go through experiences that involved reliving her trauma, over and over. A part of him contemplated trying to convince her to go back to Resembool to stay with Granny and Winry, but he knew the chimera would never accept that, as he had learned the first time he had attempted to make her go home. Though it was his and Al’s burden to bear, the pursuit of the Philosopher’s Stone to get their bodies back, Bunny insisted on following them, no matter how dark or murky things got.

Ed wondered if that was because the world the chimera saw was already twisted enough that she hardly registered something as shocking, anymore, and there was nothing she could see that she had not already known about. When they saw murderers or armed robbers, and the damage they caused, she displayed no surprise. Violence and depravity in the world, for her, was a fact of life, a part of human nature that she was forced to endure every day when she looked in the mirror.

Edward would never admit it, but he was starting to feel the same way, too. His brother never felt physical reactions of disgust or fear inside his armor, _it was his fault_, but Ed was finding that he only registered serious injuries in other people in a logical sense, unless they were someone close to him. He knew that someone being unfairly harmed was wrong, and some of the crimes were awful. Ed would get angry on the behalf of a victim, but specifically, the twisting in his gut, or a jolt through his system that indicated he was actually horrified, that he had gotten in the beginning after becoming a State Alchemist?

He never felt that, anymore.

The Colonel probably knew there was more to the story, because Bunny liked being able to talk, largely because she was never able to do so. Her silence was more telling than anything else, but he also knew that compared to him and Al, the chimera was ridiculously hard to get information from, if she did not want to share it. He decided he needed to change the subject away from Bunny, before Mustang started prying, “So, any new leads for the Stone show up while we were gone?” He asked.

The Colonel turned his attention to him, “What? You didn’t find anything in Cameron?” He smirked.

Ed felt annoyance burning in the back of his skull, “If there was, we wouldn’t have come back so quickly in the middle of the rain,” he growled, “So are you gonna let us go, or do you have another mission?”

Mustang looked at him thoughtfully, “You should have a week to research Stone on your own. I don’t have anything for you, right now.” He responded. “That will be all, you’re dismissed.”

Ed got up and gave one of his lazier salutes, before exiting the room with Al and Bunny following.

Further down the hallway, they ran into officer James, Mystic walking on a lead beside him, not wearing her work harness. The chimera and the Amestrian Shepherd sniffed at each other and wagged their tails, while the human member of the team examined Bunny’s outfit, “Wow, check out Bunny! Where can _we _get one?”

Alphonse laughed slightly, at that, “I don’t know if they’ll let Mystic do police work with something like this, James.”

Edward grinned, because in spite of the pain he was in from his limbs, and the fact that he really wanted to just go and grab lunch and then head back to the dorms, he liked the military police dog handlers stationed at East Command. Although their dogs were not intelligent on par with a human, they shared similar frustrations surrounding things like animal bans in restaurants or other businesses. Some of them read their dogs’ body language and talked to them, and they did not view the brother’s tendency to talk to Bunny or interpret her words as something unusual, because they did the exact same thing.

“It’s a level three ballistic vest. She’s not a formal working dog, so why should she look like one?” Ed told him.

“Cool-looking, _and_ it’s armor, seriously, why can’t _we _get that sort of thing? All the vests go to border conflicts, and we’re stuck worried about guns and knives, still.”

Al’s head rose a fraction in that way that it did when he was surprised, “That’s why nobody wears the vests? Because of funding? Brother and I were wondering about that, because there seemed to be a lot of them in the warehouse.”

James shrugged, “Well, you’re with a Major, and a State Alchemist. Since you use Bunny as an assist when they send you after really bad criminals, nobody would ever ask questions if you had a vest made for her, even if it was crazy expensive. East City military police don’t get proper funding to buy vests for ourselves and our dogs. We can get lower-quality tactical gear, but that doesn’t always stop bullets or really protect the dog or the officers. It’s more for identification than anything else.” He gave a small, twinkling grin and turned his focus to Ed, “The thing is, though, whatever you’re doing, Major, it’s made our popularity go up. People are actually donating funds for us to get vests, and while they aren’t pretty like Bunny’s,” He scratched the chimera between the ears, earning a small lick on his wrist. “They’ll protect dogs like this girl, here.”

He looked down at Mystic, and spoke in a high-pitched, babyish tone, “Isn’t that right, huh Missie?” The dog, of course, started wagging her tail at the nickname. The dog then proceeded to jump up and wrap her forelimbs around James’ shoulders in a hug. He had a reputation of being incredibly close with his canine companion, which was also partly why Mystic struggled so much with certain obstacles. The officer was more reluctant to put the dog through anything that made her uncomfortable. Mystic _did_, however, know how to properly hug a human without leaning so much of her weight against them that she would knock them down, and was the primary dog chosen for public relations work, due to how comfortable she was with strangers.

A voice came up from behind them, “Okay, that’s just adorable,” they whirled around to see Havoc, probably leaving to smoke outside, because even though he seemed to keep a cigarette in his mouth out of habit, it was usually unlit unless they were outside the office. His hands shook faintly in that way that said he was probably suffering some minor withdrawal symptoms. “Talking about the vest? Everyone was wondering who made it.”

Ed smiled, “A friend of ours came up with the design, and we worked together to actually make it.”

“When was this?”

“Before we left for Cameron.”

“Okay now I’m lost, who was this?” Because Ed knew that Havoc was running through his mental list of people other than the Elric brothers who also knew alchemy, and apart from Mustang, could not think of anyone. No other State Alchemist or particularly skilled individual had been in East City around the timeframe Ed had given. Bunny had actually mentioned at one point that she liked Mustang’s team and even expected for them to find out her secret. They were actually contemplating how to mention it, without causing too much confusion.

“We can’t tell you, because it’s a secret,” Al responded.

“Aw, come on, Al, don’t play with me like that, spit it out!” They had honestly expected a reaction like that, because telling someone that something was a secret was honestly a bit childish. They might have been more inclined to say something, except James was there, and he was not yet on the list of people Bunny trusted, even if he was someone she liked.

“We can’t tell you,” Ed responded, his expression completely serious, “Now isn’t the time or place to talk about that, anyway. We’re in a hurry. We’re off to get lunch, because we haven’t eaten anything since before the sun came up.”

James spoke up, then, “You’re going to get lunch, Major? Have you tried the café on 13th South Avenue?”

“Ah, no, why? Is it good?” Ed asked.

“Really good soups, perfect for weather like today. They’ll let you take Bunny inside, too. That’s where us dog handlers go every week. You should try it.”

“Great suggestion, we’ll go there.” He decided, “Thanks James!” He bolted into a run, this time more deliberate because he needed to make sure Havoc dropped his interrogation, because James was an unknown factor, and it was not unusual for him to run at the prospect of a meal, either.

“Brother, wait up!”

A chimera’s howl mixed with Al’s voice calling after him.

…

Havoc sighed, “Those kids are really secretive, as it turns out. You wouldn’t think that by looking at them, though.”

James sighed, “You totally missed the hint, Second Lieutenant.”

“Huh?”

“Try asking them about their friend again when there’s nobody around to listen. Maybe stop by their dorm, or something.”

“Well, I’ll think about it, then. You’re saying they might tell me if you weren’t around?”

“I think so. I’m a little sad I’m not someone they trust with their secret, but I get it. I’ve got stuff I’d share with my own team, and not you. No offense.”

“None taken.”

Mustang’s apartment in East City was a simple two-bedroom dwelling with wooden plank floorings and cream-painted walls. He had a single green sofa pushed up against one wall, and a bookshelf on another wall where he kept the odd tome when he decided to read. He owned relatively little furniture, considering what he made as a Colonel, and home was largely only a place where he went to sleep every night. Maes often complained about the lack of décor, and generally used that topic as a means of transitioning into questioning why he had yet to settle down and marry. Mustang’s dating habits, picking up any lady he met, generally made his friend concerned, and Maes had no idea that the Colonel was mostly just meeting with his intelligence network.

The Flame Alchemist generally did not consider himself entirely worthy of having a proper wife, or a family, after destroying so many. What kind of person would love someone like him, knowing the atrocities he committed with his alchemy? Some people could absolve themselves of guilt or blame by saying they were simply following orders, but he could have easily chosen to disobey and not harm anyone. Perhaps he would have been court-martialed, and that would have prevented him from setting out on his path to become Führer. He might have even been sent to jail for the rest of his life, but perhaps his nightmares would no longer be haunted by the faces of people he had burned alive, and the smell of ashes.

He would do just about anything to achieve his goal of becoming the leader of the country, but this, too, weighed on his conscience, which he was sometimes far too good at ignoring. He had gone to Resembool and seen two children who had wanted nothing more than their mother, and had paid the price, surviving but having been mutilated by their own mistake. He had seen a teenage girl who had been forcibly dragged away from her home, somewhere, and forced into the body of a dog. He had looked at them, and decided to use them for his ambition, and though it had certainly boosted his credentials, and it was their own choice, he knew their chosen path was toxic, and slowly damaging them in a way that was not visible from the outside. Even if they had chosen it, it had been Mustang who had made that path available to them, so he did hold some responsibility for them.

Midway through eating Xingese takeout, Mustang was forced to get up from where he had been sitting at a small table and walk over to his desk, where his phone had been ringing. He answered, “Colonel Roy Mustang speaking,” He said, keeping his voice formal, in case he was being called by someone from within the military.

_“Roy! It’s Maes!”_ A familiar, friendly voice spoke over the receiver, and He felt himself unconsciously loosen his shoulders, which he had squared out of habit.

“I suppose I can’t complain about when you called, because any later and I would have been asleep. What is it, Maes?”

_“Well, apparently I might have found an ID on our four-legged friend.”_ Maes said, trying to keep his tone upbeat and positive, but it had a distinctly serious undertone to it. Information about Bunny?

“What did you find?” He asked.

_“Well, it actually has to deal with her drawings. She isn’t ashamed of them in the slightest, and any time her and the boys stop by Central she lets me look at her sketchbook. I thought I noticed some recurring things, and managed to trace the subject matter to the eastern part of South Area, where all the swamps are. She probably came from the Marais region, because she draws a lot of ghost orchids, these really rare flowers from there. A lot of her drawings feature native wildlife.”_ Maes explained, his voice having gone completely serious, then.

Maes spoke of Bunny and the Elric brothers at the beginning of his words with affection in his tone, and Mustang knew that no matter how guarded Fullmetal or Alphonse were around everyone else, they immediately warmed up to Maes, perhaps because of how he treated them. Bunny gave off the impression of desperately wanting to trust him in the same way, but somehow being incapable of doing so, for whatever reason. Her secrets were causing her pain, but perhaps she was afraid of being hurt even more, by sharing them.

“Keep going,” He insisted.

_“Well, we have her age and a region, so I was able to trace missing person reports that were more likely to be hers. Most of the people who went missing were young children, and I couldn’t find anyone her age, so I started looking for records of children under the age of fifteen who moved away. I found one missing person report related to that, but it’s not pleasant, what I learned.”_

“Why is that?”

_“Millicent Lehr, age fifteen, eighteen now, disappeared from the Yuflam Facility for Youth, last seen leaving a local library. She would have been heading back to get to the orphanage before curfew, but she never made it.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am cruel, because I imagine the suspense is killing you. Please enjoy the following script.
> 
> (At the Military Dorms)
> 
> Havoc: *Knocks on door* Hey, Ed, Al? You home?
> 
> (Loud crashing ensues as Bunny does not bother cleaning up her art supplies, but Ed attempts to put on his jackets and gloves to hide his automail and Al puts his helmet back on his shoulders.)
> 
> Ed: Just a minute!
> 
> Havoc: Everything okay in there?
> 
> Al: We're totally fine!


	16. What if I Wanted to Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio tells Havoc about Bunny's existence, and then the entire team finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are technically two reveals in this chapter, which I think can seem a little redundant, but I also think might be necessary. I still feel like the reactions of characters are a bit more muted when it comes to learning Bunny's secret, perhaps, than what reality would suggest. At the same time, though, they seemed to handle finding out crazy stuff in the original story pretty well, so I'm going to take for granted their reactions of shock are either more muted, or they get over them really fast for some reason. The first reveal is Havoc, the second is effectively Mustang having to tell the whole team.
> 
> Did I mention how much reading I sometimes do to make the story more relevant? Reading about our own world's interpretation of the Philosopher's Stone is something I actually did, to write stuff.
> 
> The title is taken from song lyrics from 'The Kill', by Thirty Seconds to Mars. If you don't like the original several different bands have done their own version of it.

The outline of the body of a snow leopard was curled into a fetal position, fitted on the page as if it were confined by its edges. From the head to its shoulders, where the chimera had already finished greater detail work, it was covered with muscle and fur, like a living creature. Its ears were back, and its pupils dilated, reflections in the feline’s one visible eye revealing the silhouette of a human figure. The alarming part of the piece began past the shoulder blades, as the muscle, skin, and fur abruptly vanished, and only a skeleton was drawn in their place, harsh shadows outlining the contours of bone. The drawing was completely black-and-white, and the background had shading, a gradient that grew lighter around the head, and became darker on the opposing corner of the page.

It was nowhere near finished, however, as Bunny worked on the parts of the shoulder blade that could be seen past the fur. Alphonse was sitting in the lone desk chair, reading a book, while Edward quietly watched the chimera from where he was laying on the bed, hot water bottles on his shoulder and thigh along the seams where metal met flesh. It was still raining, but thanks to the heat, he was no longer experiencing any pain. The rest of the evening was being taken to relax, before the brothers launched into trying to research the Philosopher’s Stone for the rest of the week. Ed’s jackets hung from the post of the bed, and Bunny’s vest had been removed and leaned against a far wall. Al’s armor gleamed thanks to a fresh coat of polish.

For a few hours everyone enjoyed a comfortable silence, before Ed broke it, “The stuff from Cameron still bothering you?” He asked.

Bunny paused in her work, and drummed the claws of her left hand against the page, a light tapping sound mixing with the rain falling outside, before responding, “I’m glad that we’re taking a break. It gives me time to draw.” It had already been said, ages ago, that her artwork was something she did, not only because she liked it, but because it served as a creative outlet for her emotions. She had mentioned this aspect of her work to Ed and Al, and had also said something similar to Hughes. “I was going to be fine, but then Mustang brought it up again. I’m okay with you and Al asking me questions, but that guy isn’t someone I really trust completely.”

Ed turned his head, out of the corner of the eye, so that he was staring up at the ceiling, “Tell me about it. He knows everything we do, apparently, and he’s not afraid to mention it.” He scoffed, “I’d like to punch him in the face.”

“Brother,” Al chided.

“Aw, come on, Al, you too scared of authority?” Ed whined a little.

“I’m not scared, I just don’t think punching him is a good idea.”

“Well I already knew _that_, but I can dream, you know?” After that, the brothers lapsed into a momentary silence.

Al spoke, this time, changing the subject, now that he was no longer reading his book, “That one’s creepy, Bunny. There’s no blood, but it’s turned into a skeleton.”

The chimera’s tail wagged, and Ed noticed it, “Of course you’d laugh at that,” He murmured.

“Well it’s having the desired impact; of course it’s meant to be creepy.”

There was a knock on the door, then, making all conversation fall silent, as everyone turned their attention to the dorm entrance. Jean Havoc’s voice filtered in, _“Hey! Ed, Al, you guys home?”_ The two brothers looked hurriedly at Bunny, gazes asking why she had not picked up on his approaching presence sooner. The chimera shook her head; she could detect people walking down the corridors, but that activity was a regular occurrence and usually just involved people going to a different room. Bunny had no way of knowing unless someone stopped in front of their door that they were going to look for the brothers.

In keeping with her dog act, however, Bunny gave a low howl, in case anyone was watching.

Edward hissed between his teeth and rose up from where he had been resting, grabbing the hot water bottles and tucking them under one arm as he went, and stumbling and having to catch himself on the bedframe when his automail foot snagged on the sheets. “Just a minute!” He called, as he shoved the bottles under the bed to hide them, and grabbed his black undercoat from the bedpost, hurriedly putting his arms through the sleeves and snapping the strap across the front, as Al got up, setting his book aside and retrieving his sibling’s white gloves. Bunny spotted a smudge of oil on them, and quietly hoped that Havoc would not notice. There was no time to get a clean pair. In addition to his gloves, Ed had to put on his trousers because he was only wearing boxers for the moment, and tug on his socks, at minimum, to hide the metal foot.

_“Everything okay?” _Havoc asked.

Alphonse spoke, this time, “You caught us off-guard, Havoc. Nobody wants to greet guests in their sleepwear!”

_”Al!”_ Ed cried with indignation, although Bunny had to commend the younger sibling for his cleverness. It was basically the truth; there was no need for them to mention that Ed was attempting to hide his limbs.

There was an amused chuckle, _“Well, fair enough,” _Havoc would patiently wait, it seemed.

As Ed was buckling his belt, he looked down at Bunny, and mouthed the words, rather than saying them aloud, but he stressed each syllable so she could clearly read his lips, ‘Should we tell him now?’ He was asking. The chimera answered with a nod; it would be easier to tell individual people, versus having a massive group suddenly realize Bunny was a person and all focus on her. That would be terrifying.

The two brothers exchanged looks as Ed tugged on his socks, and as soon as he had finished, Al called out, “Okay, sorry for the wait,” The younger sibling unlocked the door and slowly opened it, “Come in,” He stepped aside to let the Second Lieutenant enter. He was nice enough to not have a cigarette in his mouth, for a change, likely out of respect for the fact that not everyone would appreciate him smoking in the place where they kept all their possessions or slept. When Havoc had fully entered the room, Al quickly closed the door behind him, locking it again and receiving a perplexed look, because the officer had no idea _why_ they would feel the need to lock it.

The answer was, of course, to prevent him from bolting if he freaked out. He seemed calm, and Mustang and Hawkeye had both dealt with the shock of seeing a human chimera relatively well, so Bunny quietly hoped Havoc would be similar and not panic.

“So you’re still wearing your armor even during your downtime, Al? That’s a hardcore hobby, there.” His eyes drifted through the room, until they settled on the chimera lying down on the floor, her sketchbook with the half-finished drawing in front of her. There was an open box with pastels a little further away, and the black and white ones were to her right, immediately within reach. Bunny’s hands were smudged with the media, looking like fine black dust had gotten into her fur, but it seemed very much to any viewer like the chimera had been the one drawing. She made eye contact and quietly blinked at him, tilting her head, waiting for some sort of response. When his silence dragged on, she narrowed her eyes.

She looked calm on the outside, but she actually felt like she was turning into her namesake. Her heart was beating frantically the more time that passed with Havoc simply staring. If he had joked, or freaked out, or done anything other than simply looking at her, she would have preferred it. This prolonged period of…no reaction at all, felt like torture and dragged on for what seemed like an eternity.

“…Is Bunny…actually drawing?” Havoc finally asked, probably just as bothered by the sudden tension in the room as everyone else. It was telling, in its own way.

“I was,” the chimera replied, and she watched as the Second Lieutenant’s eyes went wide with shock. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for a cigarette, and Al quietly took him by the shoulders and led him over to the desk chair. He did not protest when the younger Elric sibling gently lowered him into it. Havoc mostly just stared at Bunny like he was trying to work out how exactly this scenario was possible, or perhaps like he was worried he had imagined her speaking just then. Her voice, though, was inhuman, in spite of no longer sounding as mangled as it had been when she had met the brothers, or even Hughes. It had unmistakably come from her, and no one else.

After a bit of time processing things, Havoc finally spoke, “Alright, Bunny’s talking…so…I’m guessing this is either a dream, or some sort of freaky alchemy thing…or…?”

Edward sat cross-legged on the bed, “…It’s alchemy-related, but it has nothing to deal with me and Al. Bunny was like this before we met her, and we pretend to be pet owners and she pretends to be a dog, because if people found out they might take her away.” He chose his words carefully, because he understood how sensitive this entire topic was, “We’re tired of keeping it a secret from you and the rest of the Colonel’s team.”

“…Does the Colonel even know?” Havoc asked.

“Since the beginning,” Ed responded, “He didn’t tell you or the others, and it’s not easy to figure out how to break the news, so we just…never did…until now, I guess.”

Bunny spoke, then, “Before leaving for Cameron, I told Mustang that I considered it inevitable, that you and the rest of his team will find out my secret, eventually. I told him that, like I thought it would be accidental…but…I _like_ you and the others, even if you had no idea what I really was. Telling someone individually seemed like the safest way to make sure things don’t get out of hand. You realized Ed’s hint and were curious enough to seek answers, so…you’re getting them.”

“…Well, the Colonel’s got some explaining to do, then…I don’t really get it, but I’m guessing it’s a long story.” Havoc mused aloud, “So I’m guessing you’re the alchemist Ed and Al were saying was a secret, huh? Not really what I was expecting…but…that would explain why everyone’s so tight-lipped.” He looked over at Ed, “I didn’t think you and Al were the sort to keep secrets, but you’re good at it. I had no idea.”

Alphonse laughed nervously as he walked over and sat down on the bed next to Edward, the metal frame creaking a little under the armor’s weight. A large majority of why they were in the military was a secret, from the fact that one brother was missing a physical body to the other having an automail arm and leg, and their research revolved around trying to restore themselves. Bunny being a chimera was yet another secret thrown into the mix, followed by everything that indicated that she was a human being, though her existence could be revealed without compromising Ed and Al’s situation. “I was ten, and brother was eleven. We’ve had awhile to learn how to communicate when she can’t speak.” Al said.

Bunny tossed her head in a shrug, “It’s easier to avoid being identified than you’d think. I can get away with a lot of stuff before people will start to suspect there’s anything abnormal about me. If I don’t talk, people just assume I’m really well-trained, and that Ed and Al are really eccentric pet owners when they interpret something or hold conversations.”

“Wait, so when Ed was telling the Colonel you mentioned sending him out into the rain-” Havoc’s voice seemed to actually have a hint of _amusement_ behind it. That was…reassuring, and she wondered if recovering so fast from shock and surprise was because of some military training. It could also just be that Havoc’s usual laid-back demeanor made him naturally good at refraining from panic. Whatever the reason, it settled Bunny’s own nerves. He might have reeked of cigarettes, but his presence was still soothing, and even pleasant.

“Ed’s pretty good at guessing what I’d say. We had to fight rain the whole time we were on the road, and the trip is supposed to take three days, not four. The weather delayed us that much.” She raised a hand and angled it a few different ways, “I can do a lot of things, but standing on two legs while trying to hold an umbrella is not one of them.”

“So you got drenched, huh?” That was definitely amusement she heard.

“All three of us, really. Rain by itself isn’t so bad, but the _wind_ was awful. The rain was going sideways a few times.”

Al sighed, “-It kept breaking our umbrellas.”

Havoc outright guffawed at that, and everyone quietly waited for him to recover, before he spoke, “I interrupted you guys’ downtime, right?” He slowly rose up from his chair and pulled out a cigarette, probably intent on smoking as soon as he got out of the room. “I’ll get out of your hair. I’ll admit that this wasn’t what I was expecting…but…I don’t really think I can blame you. It seems pretty complicated.”

Bunny snorted at that. _Complicated_ was the understatement of the century, it felt like. Al made a forced sort of humming sound that could be loosely interpreted as agreement, or in word form, ‘you have no idea.’ Maybe the real meaning behind Bunny’s name was not that she had soft fur, so much as her whole entire situation was like going down a rabbit hole. Havoc would probably find himself with more questions than answers.

He seemed to notice their reactions, “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m glad you trust me enough to share your secret. I have to sort my own thoughts out, though, if that’s okay. I’ll see you guys later.” As if in an effort to prove that he really was not bothered, he lowered himself and ruffled the fur on Bunny’s head, before straightening and turning to leave. “Something I should mention,” He paused at the door, “The Colonel will probably tell everyone else in the office when he finds out you told me your secret. Is that okay?”

Bunny snorted, “He took a subordinate who was sheltering a chimera, and he knew about me long before Ed got his certification. Not everything should be my burden to bear.”

“Alright then, just figured I’d ask. I’ll see you guys later,” Havoc opened the door and left, but Bunny saw something concerned pass over his features in the moments before it closed, as his lips formed the word ‘chimera’ silently, to himself.

It was early in the morning, and so far, Mustang was the first person to arrive into his office, to deal with some paperwork that was overdue that Hawkeye would kill him over, if she realized he had still not finished it. Slowly over the course of the next thirty or so minutes, his staff would filter in. Falman would usually arrive first, followed by Fuery and Hawkeye. Havoc and Breda would generally alternate between who arrived last, being the more relaxed members of his team.

Today, however, Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc was the first person through the door, with enough visible tension in his jaw that it looked as though he would bite his cigarette in half. Mustang raised a brow at him, “Havoc, you’re here early. Something the matter?” He asked.

Rather than sit at his desk, Havoc walked up to stand in front of Mustang’s at the end of the room. “Colonel, I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m just gonna tell you outright. I went to go visit Ed and Al at their dorm, and I find out that Bunny isn’t even a dog.” He removed the cigarette from his mouth because he started gritting his teeth, “Last time we heard of a talking chimera, it was that guy’s _wife_.”

The Colonel steepled his fingers, thinking over how he would handle this—it was far more delicate than the things he normally dealt with. He inclined his head, “When the others get here, we’ll discuss this.” He could only guess that the chimera had been pushed over the edge by his questioning yesterday. Although more people than just himself and the brothers knew of her existence, Bunny’s capability to interact with them was sporadic. She had probably felt isolated, and he had probably made that worse. The chimera was not dealing with simply a lack of friends, but a lack of individuals that treated her like a human being. There was a possibility the only reason Bunny confided in him for anything was because he was a person she could speak with that she was not constantly traveling with.

“Alright, then,” Havoc replaced the cigarette in his mouth, and slowly returned to his desk, getting out his own assigned paperwork that was left over from yesterday, and visibly struggling to focus. As other people began to arrive, Mustang could only conclude that today would be an inefficient one, at best. At least nothing they had was urgent. He finished up his overdue papers before Hawkeye arrived, and Breda raised a brow at Havoc, seeing him there, perhaps knowing his friend from the military academy had arrived early.

“Jean, where were you?” He asked.

“It’s a bit complicated…” Havoc replied.

Mustang rose from his chair, “Now that everyone is here, Breda, lock the door. This discussion isn’t for anyone else’s ears, aside from the people in this room.”

Breda’s eyes went wide, but he complied, before walking over to stand by his desk, not yet sitting down, “What’s going on, Colonel?”

The Colonel quietly pondered on whether or not two other people present backing him up would be sufficient to prove that the alleged ‘dog’ everyone had been seeing for so long was really a human chimera. Bunny was an excellent actor, and most people would be inclined to think someone claiming the dog could talk was a joke. At the same time, though, there were very few things that Mustang would consider so important that he would order people to lock the door.

“What I will tell you is extremely important, and innocent people will suffer serious consequences if you fail to keep it a secret. You can discuss it with each other or myself, but other than the people this involves, you will not discuss this with anyone outside this room.” He waited for everyone to give a formal agreement, before continuing, “It concerns Fullmetal’s dog. Today, I would like to inform you that Bunny is actually not a dog. She is a chimera, similar to the one created by Shou Tucker. She is a human being in spite of her appearance, and pretends to be a dog around most people for safety reasons. She is your mystery artist, as well as an alchemist, taught by the Elric brothers. She is the individual who created the healing array that I shared with Major Armstrong.”

Havoc looked like he was about to gnaw his cigarette in half again, and everyone aside from him and Hawkeye stared at him like he had grown a second head, before the momentary shock vanished, and they all turned in unison to look at the Lieutenant, as if asking her if he was joking or not. “He’s telling the truth.” She said.

Breda spluttered, “Wait, wait, if she’s a chimera, why didn’t you say anything _sooner?_” As soon as the first question was asked, Fuery and Falman began asking questions, too, impossible to discern in the mess. Mustang held up his hand and they all fell silent again.

“Bunny is the victim of a crime. She should not be obligated to explain herself, because it would seem as if we were assigning blame, and she has already been questioned by myself, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, and Hawkeye. She is completely innocent, and the Elric brothers are not responsible for her current state. She escaped from her kidnapper of her own accord, and Fullmetal and Alphonse took her in. Not saying anything sooner, I’m sorry to say, is my own fault.”

His eyes drifted to Havoc, “They told Havoc yesterday, in private; I’ve taken this as a statement that they’re tired of playing at pet and owners.”

Havoc sighed and stared up at the ceiling, “The Colonel isn’t lying, guys. She was drawing in a sketchbook when I dropped by the dorms, and we even talked about the weather…” He turned his attention back to Mustang, “How old is she, even?”

“Eighteen; she was fifteen when she was transmuted.” He saw something like horror pass over everyone’s faces, save for the Lieutenant, who had already known. “Treat her with the same respect you would afford to another person, and be supportive if she chooses to discuss problems with you. She has very few people that she can interact with as a human.” He knew he was a hypocrite, saying those words.

Breda sank down onto his chair, “…Well it’s gonna be really weird the next time we see her, I guess. And here I thought I got to be friends with a dog after being terrified of them.”

Havoc sent him a slightly painful grin, “You would have freaked out even if you knew she was human, because of how she looks. It was probably easier for you to get over your fear the way you did. You can handle Black Hayate and all the police dogs just fine now, right?”

Breda laughed slightly, “Well, she _did_ help me get over my phobia, I guess.”

Falman folded his arms thoughtfully, “That actually explains a lot of Ed and Al’s behavior, when you think about it. They’ve always been really protective of her, and then that weird habit where they’re holding conversations…”

Fuery was perplexed, “You think they’re actually interpreting her?”

Havoc shrugged, “I don’t know how accurate, but Bunny says they are. I’m still trying to figure out how that works, but I guess it’s because they’re around each other so much. You guys know that unless we’re talking to her, Bunny’s pretty quiet when she’s around the brothers. Maybe she just doesn’t need to make a bunch of noises to get her point across, with them.”

“Just when you think someone’s just a crazy pet owner, huh? I had no idea…” Fuery looked a little disheartened, “I feel kinda bad now…”

Mustang spoke, then, trying to prevent anything from devolving, “Bunny likely won’t hold your treatment of her against you. I was fooled just as much as anyone else until she spoke; she’s excellent at pretending to be a normal dog, but our own preconceived notions are powerful enough to make us ignore any slips.” He sat back down at his desk, taking a paper that was not yet due, to distract himself, “That will be all.”

With that, everyone haltingly proceeded back with what they were doing, the soldier sitting closest to the door unlocking it.

Mustang tried to ignore the glances sent his way.

_…two days later…_

Being cooped up inside a library reminded Bunny overwhelmingly of when she was younger, but she would pick being inside a small study room with the boys over being forced to stand outside where everyone would stare. Thanks to the fact that they were in a library that served State Alchemists within East City, the study room came complete with a worktable, two sofas, and quality lighting, but most importantly, a door. The chimera appreciated this, because it afforded enough privacy to prevent people from overhearing her speaking, as the boys read multiple alchemical texts that might have referenced the Philosopher’s Stone. Given that alchemy did trace its roots back to a real philosopher, they found themselves not only dealing with scientific theory, but mythological discussions.

Bunny had, during this time, assisted them, researching things they otherwise might have ignored, going through individual tomes compared to how the brothers would open two books at once to cross-reference. A few times, though, the chimera would feel like cobwebs were starting to form in her brain, and need to look away and take a break, perhaps to pace the room. She was used to working on small, intricate details in artwork for hours on end and doing the same with reading fictional works, but studying alchemy texts like the boys was not something she could do. No matter how determined she was to learn something, she needed to be a little more engaged to focus properly on particularly dry topics. Her own alchemy notes for the Philosopher Stone research, as a consequence, had doodles all around the edges of her pages, while her personal coded journal was pristine.

The brothers had learned, early on, that it was better to let Bunny take five minutes of free time every so often, and give her free reign to doodle as she pleased while she researched things or studied. Doodling was sometimes taken as a person being distracted, and it distinctly looked this way with Bunny, because as an artist, her drawings were just prettier, overall. The truth, though, was that it was just enough of an activity to keep someone engaged so that their mind would not start to drift elsewhere. It was actually a type of concentration strategy, and the chimera would attribute some of her artistic skill to the fact that she was always putting drawings on the back of her paper when she was taking notes in her binders, as a child.

“Find anything interesting?” Edward asked.

‘Interesting,’ here, seemed to have separate definitions. Apart from the mythology information Bunny could find, most of the actual alchemical theory was boring, by her standards, but she knew the opposite would hold true for the brothers. There were plenty of books that related to the Stone, but none that properly discussed what might be used to create one. Bunny sighed at the question, “Well, apparently it’s made with some sort of ingredient I don’t think exists in nature? Carmot…and then there’s mention of a universal solvent, which I’m pretty sure is mercury and would just poison someone…”

“Anything else?”

“Everything else kind of branches into unattainable things. You probably can’t create the original substance that formed the universe, so _Prima materia_ is out. We don’t know what it was like before the substance differentiated, and it was probably really dense or something. I get the impression that maybe the whole point is trying to create carmot, because a changeable substance could just be…turned into it?” She laid her head on top of the book she was reading, “I’m going in circles…”

“Nothing, huh?” Ed sighed.

“Nope,” She muttered.

“What about you, Al?”

“I found the Squared Circle again…” An image that looked an awful lot like a transmutation circle, but functionally, did not work correctly. A circle with a triangle connected to its interior by the points. Constrained within the triangle was a square, and within the square was another circle. It was slightly off-centered but featured bilateral symmetry, and it represented the four elements of earth, water, air, and fire. Bunny loosely interpreted the four elements as matter states, being solid, liquid, gas, and plasma. Alchemy began with trying to simply manipulate elements into new shapes, followed by changing matter states, or combining things into new compounds. What the boys were studying, bio-alchemy, was bolstered by some of Bunny’s healing array research, but the Philosopher’s Stone did not fit well with what people conventionally knew.

“Great…so we’ve been hitting dead ends all day…”

Midway through the brother’s exchange, a familiar scent she had not picked up in a while hit her nose, and her ears pricked forward, alert. She quickly grabbed her note papers and turned them over, before sticking them inside her book to hold her place, and closed it. She managed to pick it up between her hands and set it on the table, before standing to face the door. No matter who came through it, it was good practice to make it seem like only two people had been working, versus three.

Lieutenant Colonel Hughes was in East City, it seemed, and by the strengthening scent, headed their way. It was not uncommon for him to barge into rooms unannounced, but he generally lost the element of surprise when there was a chimera who would pick up his scent long before he reached his destination. _“Hughes,”_ She whispered. He must be visiting for the day.

Sure enough, footsteps came down the hallway, and the door was unceremoniously thrown open with a crash, “Ed! Al! Bunny! Hey there! Roy told me you’d probably be here!” He spoke loudly enough that it qualified as yelling. Although most of his expression did not change, Bunny spotted the briefest widening of his eyes, because everyone was looking at him as though he had been expected. “Bunny, you ruined my surprise,” He whined at her.

That did not change their response too much, though.

Ed’s face lit up, and Al made a little noise that betrayed his delight. Bunny was wagging her tail, but said nothing because the door was open. Ed was the first to speak, “Lieutenant Colonel, I didn’t know you were visiting East City.”

“I had a mission investigating some criminal activity over here, but I thought I’d drop by and say hello.” Bunny got the sense there was more to it, than that, as he entered the room and took the silent hint that he needed to close the door if he wanted to hear her talking. “So you’re busy with researching things this week? At least until Roy finds something else for you to do, huh?”

Edward slumped over his study materials, “We aren’t getting anywhere,” He mumbled, “People write about things plenty but they don’t actually tell you how to make them.”

Bunny stared up at the ceiling, speaking after determining it was safe, “Words are starting to go all blurry. I’m getting bored, here.”

Al gave a slight laugh, “We could tell by the doodles…”

Hughes watched them talk briefly, before joining in, “Well, I did have some exciting news to share!” Everyone sighed, knowing what was about to happen next, as the Lieutenant Colonel reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a photograph, proceeding to shove it in the trio’s faces, “Look at my little Elicia! She’s starting to say words!” He actually started shedding tears, then.

“That’s great…” Ed responded, expression a bizarre combination of joy and annoyance, as if he was not sure which one he wanted to lean towards.

“I’m happy to hear that, Hughes,” Bunny responded, “I’m guessing Nina and Gracia are well, too?”

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked. Gracia caught a cold awhile ago and I was so worried, but she got better really quickly. Nina’s a little artist, I’m so proud of my princess.” The boys both gave her a look that was urging her to not encourage him. The issue, though, was that Maes Hughes would talk about his family regardless of whether or not you protested. She went along with it largely because it was easier than resisting. The one thing she_ was_ immune to, similar to Al, was that it was not possible for Hughes to grab her and physically drag her anywhere, because she was too heavy to be carried off. Given the look he was shooting at Ed, though, she had a creeping suspicion that-

Hughes walked over and grabbed Edward by the back of his cloak, “Come on, Bunny’s bored, and you probably haven’t eaten dinner yet. You three are coming with me.” He seemed to have deliberately avoided touching Ed's automail, though the action was natural.

“Hey! We’re busy! Cut it out!”

“Sorry, Ed, no can do. You need to eat something, and we've got things to discuss. No protests.”

Bunny and Al watched as Hughes proceeded to drag the elder Elric sibling, struggling and fussing all the while, from the room, before exchanging glances, and shaking their heads. Alphonse gathered up the notes they had been taking and stacked them together, along with the books, before the two got up and left to go follow, relying on the chimera’s sense of smell to locate the aggressively hospitable soldier and the third member of their trio.

It came as a surprise, then, when they left the library, and Bunny’s nose detected several more familiar scents. They rounded the corner and saw Ed with his arms folded, glaring up at none other than Colonel Mustang, clearly raging at the man, “-What do you mean_, splitting us up?_ What’s so important that you have us going with the Lieutenant Colonel?”

Bunny rumbled a question that joined Ed’s as she approached. They had not seen Mustang or members of his staff in several days despite being in East City the whole time. Hughes was right that it was around dinner time, given the sky was taking on the rose and orange tones of a sunset, but it was an unusual move for the two officers to go out of their way to separate Bunny from the brothers, and against her better judgement, she started to feel a hint of panic. The fact that Ed practically radiated distress beneath his anger was not helping.

Hughes was trustworthy and would not hurt the boys, so Bunny was not concerned about the fact that he was taking Ed and Al somewhere, but _Mustang_, specifically, dragging her somewhere was extremely unusual, and against her will, the fur on the back of her neck stood on end. She had a feeling she _really_ was not going to like whatever was going on. The alarm bells in her head were ringing loudly. She doubted that the Colonel meant harm…but that did not stop her from anticipating something negative.

“Colonel?” Al looked at him, questioningly.

Mustang, to his credit, had the faintest tells that suggested, to Bunny, at least, that he was actually uncomfortable with this whole situation, “I have something I need to discuss with Bunny, and you two have an unfortunate tendency to eavesdrop when not otherwise occupied. You two will go with Maes, and Bunny will come with me. All three of you will be treated to a meal for your troubles, since I doubt any of you have eaten.” _Any_ meaning Ed and Bunny, specifically. “Fullmetal, calm down, nobody is in any trouble.” It came out sounding harsher and more authoritative than what the Colonel had probably intended.

Ed gritted his teeth, but Bunny knew he would have to cave and they would all wind up obeying Mustang’s orders. He was giving them the illusion of choice, here, but realistically, if his subordinate put up a fight, the Colonel would eventually threaten him with a court-martial. The chimera had learned a long time ago that sometimes, a choice was not genuinely a choice, but something you did voluntarily, if only because it was better than being punished or forced. The chimera had no choice but to go with Mustang, and everyone knew this.

Hughes was frowning at the Colonel’s tone, and it felt like an expression that did not need to be there. It was disapproving, more than anything else. The Lieutenant Colonel walked over to Ed, “I promise nothing bad is gonna happen, okay?” He looked between the brothers, directing the statement at both of them.

Bunny gave a quiet rumble, tossing her head, and getting quizzical looks from both men. Ed looked in her direction, and the chimera proceeded to make more noises, and jerked her head in the direction of the two officers, in an indication that he needed to translate for her.

“She says,” He began, his voice sullen, “You better have a good reason, because I have a bad feeling about all of this, no matter what you say.”

With that, Ed stiffly turned and began walking away, clearly done with the conversation, until Hughes and Al followed, with the adult taking the lead, and proceeding to ramble, almost as if he were nervous, about a good shop a few streets over. They disappeared down the road, leaving the chimera alone with the Colonel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody has begun explaining yet, but I think both Hughes and Mustang are realizing they're in serious trouble. Sadly Bunny doesn't get to interact with the team, yet, but I do have plans.
> 
> (Scene right after, preceded by a long, uneasy silence)
> 
> Bunny, after assessing there are no eavesdroppers: You know, you can't exactly take me somewhere and have a conversation in public, you realize that, right?
> 
> Mustang:...I was going to get takeout. I don't make a habit of going to visit the park at night, but I suspect that would be a place you would prefer.
> 
> Bunny: Actually, how about the warehouses by the river?
> 
> Mustang: Is that a threat?
> 
> Bunny: Maybe. I can toss you in the water if I don't like what you say.
> 
> (Mustang proceeds to start sweating nervously)


	17. The Words They Needed to Hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mustang and Hughes, respectively, reveal their activities to Bunny, Edward, and Alphonse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually mostly rewritten from the original way it was published, because I was not happy with the end result. I like this new version a lot more, and I feel that the portrayals of the characters are more realistic.
> 
> What I would say is that Bunny does get mad, but she isn't inclined towards staying that way for an extended period--that isn't to say she forgets what happens entirely or that she forgives right away, but she doesn't like being ruled by her emotions.
> 
> Also, I don't want to write multiple chapters of Bunny just snarling at Mustang and Hughes, or avoiding them.
> 
> After this, the next chapter I write will be a fun one, I'm thinking, because I'm ready for us to have some cheerful stuff happen. We need a little happiness!

After the sun had set, it had given way to a cloudless black sky, faintly illuminated near the horizon by hazy, artificial lighting that came from East City itself. For the most part, there was nothing but darkness when Bunny glanced up at it; the sparse number of stars she could see were dim and barely visible. In reality, though, she knew that there was a vast river of glimmering lights above her, and that they had simply been drowned out by the glow of the city below. Even at night, East City was lit by lampposts at regular intervals, with cars rumbling down its streets. Fewer people than during the day, but enough to form crowds, regardless, milled about. Mustang led the way through these clusters of activity while the chimera followed close behind.

Eventually, they came to a small place that was open to the street, and Mustang went up to the counter. He exchanged a few snatches of conversation with the cashier, before ordering pork dumplings, with specific instructions to avoid adding onions, scallions, or garlic, due to plans involving sharing them with someone who had an allergy. The man assured him that these forbidden things would not touch the actual dumplings, and clipped the ticket to a window behind him, where a pleasing smell wafted through. Bunny suspected the primary meal this restaurant sold was noodle soup, but that was hardly convenient for takeout. What the chimera could appreciate, though, was that Mustang had recognized her dietary limitations, and had picked something that could be eaten without utensils.

The Colonel walked off to the side to stand next to Bunny, while they waited for the food to be prepared, and the chimera’s ear twitched as she looked up at the sky again, trying to pick out where the stars might be, even though she could not see them. Mustang, of course, noticed this, “You keep looking up at the sky. This isn’t the countryside, you know,” He spoke with something like amusement in his tone, but the chimera could not shake the feeling that it was forced. He gave off an almost anxious sort of energy that was uncharacteristic for the man. Bunny tolerated Mustang in the office relatively well, but being in public, without the brothers, she was not pleased with his presence.

The chimera did not outright hate Mustang, but she did not adore him, either. He had aspects about himself that she liked, and other things that she despised. He was a man who sent her and the boys after criminals who were known to maim and kill, yet expressed reluctance to say that a situation was not completely fixed by Ed and Al’s actions. He tossed them into a fire only to pull them out again, rather than let them learn to endure it. He acted decent to Bunny and Al’s faces, and threatened Ed in private with his greatest fears.

It was this sort of wishy-washy behavior, his inability to decide whether he wanted to care or be entirely professional or even cruel, that made Bunny unwilling to trust him. He had never carried out his threats, but he had still continued to make them. Did Mustang not realize that Edward’s extreme reaction to him trying to separate the group had been due to that? Even Hughes had not approved of the tone he had taken.

In response to his statement, she snorted, to indicate she had heard him, but he had no skill with reading her nonverbal signs. Trying to interact with him would be fruitless without actual words.

Some of her dismissiveness must have carried, “I suppose it’s nicer than the city, if you aren’t fond of the environment.” Bunny did not hate cities, but they were not _home._ Her hometown had possessed some developed areas, and then outskirts that were more wilderness and rural countryside. Docks from private homes touched the river, but further up, there was a massive, maze-like network of them, with proper fishing vessels, bustling with activity at all hours of the day. To one side you had this, and the next, an immense network of wetlands.

This city, with the only plant life being in the parks, felt too structured to the chimera, who was used to seeing dense mats of moss or weeds growing between cobblestones, and vines overtaking masonry. She was used to seeing turtles crossing the road, or a snake basking in the middle of a path that she would have to walk around. East City had none of these things; she could not feel nature asserting itself, here. This town had its charms, like any other place, but it lacked the wildness she craved.

“-Alright, garlic and onion-free dumplings!” The cashier got their attention, and Mustang thanked the man, before taking the bag of takeout. Once more, he took the lead through the streets, and although he knew of her threat, he led them to the warehouses by the river.

When they came to an area by the edge, a low concrete wall with an industrial bench probably meant for workers against it, he set the food down and withdrew two containers, placing one on the ground for Bunny, while he took the bench, himself. A line of warehouses stretched beyond them, massive brick structures with machinery and other things that the chimera had no name for. The prettier paved streets had given way to a smooth concrete road more suitable for forklifts. The lampposts, here, were further apart, leaving much of the area shrouded in darkness, though the chimera could see just fine. Mustang, no doubt, struggled to make out shapes beyond the radius of the light the post by the bench produced.

The warehouse area was only active during the day, and therefore, it was deserted, now. Perfect for holding a conversation with a person who was not able to talk in public. She assessed for ambient noise, before speaking, “I’m glad you remembered dogs can’t eat onions or garlic, or I wouldn’t be able to touch these.” Bunny was able to lift the dumplings up with one hand easily, and was grateful that she would be able to eat dinner in a dignified manner. She could use silverware, but trying to balance on her hind legs without at least one front paw to stabilize herself was unpleasant. She had drunk water from puddles, before, so she was less concerned about the fact that her hand had been used as a foot.

“I asked Hawkeye about foods that you might not be able to have, in case there were any lesser-known risks, since she has Black Hayate. It would be a horrible reflection on me if I did not take your restrictions into account.”

The chimera snorted, “I suppose as many dates as you apparently go on, it’s a matter of personal pride. I’ve got no intentions of nagging you like Hughes, though. No doubt whenever he got here he did that plenty.” There was a telling expression on the Colonel’s face that told Bunny she was correct. Hughes had probably hounded him the entire time right up until dinner, either talking about his family or fussing about why the man was not married. She was sure more serious conversation was mixed in, but the Lieutenant Colonel’s presence was generally synonymous with him gushing about his wife and two daughters.

“I am going to incinerate that man, one of these days.” Mustang muttered, while the chimera ate the dumpling she had been holding.

Bunny finished chewing and swallowed what she had bitten into, before speaking again, “I seriously doubt that.” She then switched to another subject, “So, am I right in guessing neither of us will have an appetite if you go ahead and tell me what it is you want to discuss?”

“The subject matter isn’t pleasant.”

“Well then give me some good news so we have something to talk about for the time being, because dwelling on it isn’t good for either of us, and I was very bored with the authors whose works I had to read today.”

“Havoc told me about the stunt you and the brothers pulled, and I took it as a hint that you wanted me to tell my staff your secret. You’ll be able to talk in my office, from now on.” He narrowed his eyes slightly, “I was given the impression that you wanted to simply wait until something forced the issue.” His attempt at seriousness was ruined, somewhat, by the fact that they were eating dumplings. It was a bit surreal. If she was honest with herself, though, this was probably just as strange for him as it was for her.

“Things changed my mind.” She responded vaguely. “Thank you for telling them, so I didn’t have to, though.” Trying to explain _why _she changed her mind was a road she did not want to go down. Mustang was not as perceptive as Hughes was, but he was still good at reading people, and that was dangerous.

They lapsed into silence, after that, and Bunny ate her food almost mechanically, without the conversation. Considering they were not dog food, the chimera should have enjoyed the dumplings more, but she was in the presence of a person that left her feeling too uneasy to properly relax. The hint of nerves was still there, and Mustang’s anxiety was becoming her own. Not only did it make her food lose its flavor, but it caused a prickle of irritation directed at the officer. She finished her meal before the Colonel did, because an individual dumpling for her was a single mouth full. “Well, I’m done. What is it?”

The Colonel set his own container aside and slowly rose from the bench, brushing some nonexistent dust from the sides of the black overcoat he was wearing over his uniform. She thought she saw him stop himself from reaching into his pockets, where his ignition gloves were. “You don’t tell us anything,” He began, “We don’t know anything about you, not where you came from or who you were. That’s why when Fullmetal was applying to become a State Alchemist, I told Maes I intended to find out. We started digging.” Wait, they _violated her privacy?_

Bunny snorted, “For what reason? To get to know me better? What’s your motive, Mustang, in learning where I came from?” A hand fidgeted restlessly against the concrete, a dull _tap-tap_ of drumming claws, interspersed with faint scraping, when she stretched and curled her fingers. Her ears were forward, tail raised, and her fur was starting to bristle. Faint creases were in her snout, and a faint glint of teeth shone in the low light. “Maybe you were just curious, but either way, I don’t owe you my life’s story. In spite of that, something tells me you dug it up anyway, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

To his credit, his anxiety did not show outwardly, except for the faintest twitch of his fingers that indicated he still might want to retrieve his ignition gloves, anyway. “Maes found a connection in your drawings. You reference things from where you came from. That’s why you look at the sky even when there aren’t any stars, or why you keep drawing certain plants and animals.” There were, of course, other things that Bunny would draw or even paint, but references to the Marais wetlands were a frequent thing. Sometimes it was chickens or sheep in Resembool, or things she had seen traveling with the boys, but she knew her own patterns.

“What did you find?” The claws kept _tap-tap_ tapping on the concrete. This whole situation was dangerous; Bunny felt herself looking for any excuse to tear into the man. It was not enough that he would probably see in the poor ambient lighting, but she could feel herself shaking. Not from fear, or from anxiety, but from a seething _rage_ that ate into her bones and heart, and built up inside her ribcage like something trying to escape, like a physical thing. In spite of this, her voice was startlingly calm, except for a harsh edge that was uncharacteristic, to her own ears.

“Millicent Lehr, orphaned at age twelve, reported missing at the age of fifteen from the Yuflam Facility for Youth. They suggested that you ran away.” He kept his visage schooled into that expressionless mask, and his voice was even, as if he were reciting a statistic, and not telling someone to their face that he had dredged up their secrets.

For some reason, that made something in Bunny _snap_.

A growl rumbled in her throat, “I didn’t _run away_!” Mustang’s face did not change, but he took a step back, very slowly, and it was easy to notice. “Do you think I’ll attack you? Give me some credit! You knew I’d be angry, you_ expected _it, and now you’re getting it! You wanted answers, and now you’ve gotten them! Do you think it’s _funny_, invading my _privacy_, treating me with so _little_ respect, when you know I have nowhere to go and can’t just _avoid _you because you’re Ed’s _commanding officer?!_ As far as I’m concerned, what makes you _any _different from those caretakers that just made up that excuse, because they _didn’t want to look for me?!”_ There was a hysterical note to her words, but there was nobody else around, so she hardly cared, in that moment.

When she spoke again, after just heaving from all of the yelling, _screaming_ at him that she had done, her voice wavered, and she hated it, because it showed just how much everything _hurt_. “…Who do you _think you are?”_ All at once the rage evaporated and left something like despair in its wake. Her breath came in ragged, shaking gasps, and she felt a wave of nausea, and errantly worried that she would throw up. It was happening again. She put her wary trust in another person, not even certain if she should, and it was betrayed, yet again. Bunny should have expected it. Maybe because so much time had passed, maybe because some stupid hope in her heart thought, even through the abuse he doled out, Mustang might actually have felt some sort of real concern; she had definitely thought that of Hughes.

The numbness set in like a cold wave washing over her, dulling out the anger and the rage and leaving something hollow in its wake. She could breathe again, but she hated how it felt, because she was too unfeeling to even find relief in it.

She almost did not register when Mustang responded, “I have no excuse for my actions. I can only apologize. What I did was wrong and unfair, and you have every right to be angry with me. I am sorry for whatever harm I caused you.” It was a rare thing, the words of this proud man, and it was probably the first time Bunny had ever heard him truly apologize for any of his actions. His tone was sincere, but held the same sort of strict formality one would expect from a soldier. It had the effect of making her feel slightly better, while at the same time making her feel irritated, all over again. He had genuinely apologized, but he was not quite regretting as much as he _should_, what he had done.

“An apology alone won’t make up for what you did. From the beginning you knew it was wrong and did it anyway.” She felt raw on the inside, and empty, like one of those Xingese nesting dolls where most of the pieces had been lost somewhere. There was something agitated, though, like the hum of a wasp’s nest, and she wanted it gone. “I’m evening the score, starting with _this.”_

With those last words, she suddenly lunged forward and locked her jaws around the Colonel’s lower leg—careful not to break the skin, but tight enough to have a proper grip, and make him yelp with surprise. He was not able to reach into his pockets for his gloves before Bunny had swung her head around and up, hurling Mustang into the air and over the low barriers towards the river, where he landed with a splash. The landing cut him off before he could do more than give an undignified yell; it felt _good_, like the rush of running through an open place in Resembool at top speed, or dodging around trees and bogs in the Marais. The sort of catharsis that only unrestrained movement and action could give.

She wagged her tail and smiled at the spot where Mustang had landed, a bit meanly.

Moments later, there were a series of splashes as he surfaced, spluttering, “You actually _threw _me?” He protested, something like a whine in his voice. The sort of snapping he did at people when confronted with his one, mortal weakness. It was familiar, whenever Havoc teased him about his complete lack of combat capabilities in the rain, _in spite_ of having a gun. It made her feel slightly better to see his composure thoroughly ruined.

“Yes, I _did!_ I have _better_ things to do with my life, but you can deal with a bit of petty revenge!” She walked over to where he would have to swim to get out; an area without barriers, “Now come on and get over here; the temperature is supposed to drop sometime tonight, and you need to get home in a timely manner before you freeze-” She saw him giving her an openly perplexed look, “-Oh you think that’s all I’ll do? Don’t get your hopes up! But no, I’ll find a different way to get back at you that doesn’t involve maiming you horribly.” His expression shifted to mild alarm.

“…Quit _staring_ and hurry up!” She started pacing, “We’re burning moonlight!” She felt like her words sounded a little crazed, but to be fair, being mentally and emotionally exhausted destroyed her inhibitions regarding what she would say. She would probably break down and cry again in front of the brothers, but she had enough control over herself where the stress was just translating into annoyance and something almost frantic.

Tucked into the middle of a wide alley that left it semi-hidden, there was a hole-in-the-wall sandwich place with wooden plank walls and matching flooring. It featured booths with red cushions that were somehow still comfortable to sit on, but were so old and worn that they were cracked, the stuffing visible in some of the worse-off ones; how the cores of the cushions had not broken down was a mystery. The light fixtures were ugly cream-colored lamps embroidered with baby-pink flowers and green vines, casting dim yellow light throughout the dining area. On one wall was a massive shelf lined with a seemingly random assortment of figurines and novelty salt-and-pepper shakers, largely themed after farm animals. On another wall, a massive oil painting of a countryside landscape, featuring grazing cattle—mostly sepia with discernible cracks and damage—was proudly hung.

“Something tells me Bunny would be furious if she saw the state of that painting.” Ed had murmured, off-handedly, his tone snappish and irritated.

Overall, the decorating was not very pretty, but the food was good, hence business kept the place afloat. At this time of day, the eatery was deserted, giving Hughes and the boys the entire dining area to themselves.

Although partway through the walk there he had managed to pull Al out of his sulk, and calm down Ed, they were still not completely fine, in spite of going with Hughes to get dinner. Hughes would have to have a talk with Roy about how he was treating the boys, because he had honestly not approved of how his friend had handled Ed’s outburst. Further elaborating on that detail, the exact nature of Ed’s response to being split up, while it looked like rage, had actually been more like distress. What Hughes had learned from when the boys stayed at his apartment in Central, was that Ed always channeled his negative emotions, whether it was fear or sadness, into anger. Alphonse, by comparison, was his quieter, calmer sibling, but Hughes was not so certain the younger brother was doing any better, just because he did not lash out in such an overt manner.

For a while they sat in silence, Ed biting into the baguette that had come with his pasta with enough ferocity that Hughes was sure he was somehow taking out his frustration on the food. “Alright, so…I might as well start giving you boys some answers,” He began, and they looked at him with what was probably a mix of agreement and confusion. Normally, before any conversation, Hughes would have pulled out his accordion wallet and shown off the family photos he had on his person. Right now, though, he suspected they were more upset over having no idea what was going on.

Hughes, of course, thought nothing was more important than his beloved wife, Gracia, and his two little angels, Nina and Elicia. Nothing would ever replace them in his eyes, and he treasured them more than anything in the whole, wide world. At some point, though, especially when Elicia had been born on the same day that Ed had his thirteenth birthday, Hughes realized that he vaguely thought of the boys as his children, too. They were running around, fighting criminals, being threatened with guns and knives and seeing every manner of depraved thing at an early age, but they still needed someone to support them, because even if they were capable alchemists, they were still kids. Bunny was eighteen, and an adult legally, now, but he was sure if he had a teenage daughter, she would have been his kid, too.

Hughes had a serious problem with wanting to adopt all the kids, he could not help but jokingly think about himself.

“Remember when you were first taking the State Alchemist exam, Ed, and Roy and Hawkeye came over and wanted to talk with Bunny?” He began, deciding he would have to ease into this sort of thing, because no matter how highly the brothers thought of him, he would probably still get punched in the face if he was not careful. He had seen photos of some of the stuff Ed could do—for someone so young, he had a wicked hook, and that was the arm that was still flesh and blood. It would be even more terrifying when he got older. Alphonse was probably just as dangerous, given he was already at a tall stature, and just as capable, if not more so.

“Yeah, he made her cry.” Ed responded flatly, “She’s not gonna be crying again when we meet back up, is she?” There was a veiled threat behind those words.

“Well, she might…and it’s ultimately my fault, and Roy’s. You had nothing to deal with this.”

Al looked up at him sharply, “Nobody found out, right?”

“No, nothing like that, it’s okay…but…we did something you won’t like.”

Ed growled a little, “What?”

“Well, after that conversation, Roy said he wanted to learn more about her…and unfortunately, that translated into wanting to dig around and find out who she was. I told him she wouldn’t like it, but when he wants something, he doesn’t usually stop until he gets it. I wound up helping him-” an abrupt fist slamming on the table with a rattle of plates and silverware silenced him.

“You _what?!”_

Al joined his brother, “That isn’t _right_, Lieutenant Colonel!”

A woman peeked out from in the kitchen, “-Is everything alright in here?” She called.

There was a tense pause, before Ed snorted and slowly withdrew back into a more neutral position, his brother doing the same. Hughes, meanwhile, held up a hand, putting on a friendly façade, “Everything’s alright, ma’am! Just a bit of bad news.”

“Ah,” She slowly nodded, “Well, try not to dent the table, ‘kay?” With that remark, she withdrew back behind the door. That was the other reason this place was so good for a talk; the staff did not really care what was going on, short of a full-blown brawl starting.

Hughes decided to take advantage of the forced calm before the brothers became riled up again, or worse, got up and decided to go on a warpath around East City with the intent of hunting down Roy. “I was trying to say if I didn’t, he might have started interrogating her.” He finished.

“That doesn’t excuse it,” Al responded, “We _trusted_ you, why would you do that?”

“I _should_ be punching you,” Ed grumbled, and the leather-gloved hand of his younger sibling quickly shot out and grabbed his forearm, the right one that would cause far greater damage were it to connect with something.

There was a long pause, before the Lieutenant Colonel sighed, “Call it two grown men being a pair of idiots. I owe her an apology, and so does Roy; that’s what he wanted to talk with her about.” He said, “We found her identity, and we’re pretty sure we got the right one…we just never thought we would find out what we did. I understand, now, why she didn’t want to tell us anything.”

Ed huffed, and there was an audible creak from the sound of his automail clenching into a fist. By some miracle, Hughes’ glasses were not broken, and he was not sprawled on the floor with a black eye plus a concussion. “For your information, Al and I already knew that, practically since the day she came to live with us. We didn’t _have_ to sneak through her records to get to know her; we just _asked_ and she told us, or she even brought it up on her own.” His eyes narrowed, glinting and alarmingly hostile.

Hughes felt himself break into a cold sweat, when really, he had dealt with worse attempts at intimidation, while questioning hardened murderers. Ed, though, had _fought_ such people, now, going from someone who had almost been the victim of a serial killer to someone who had a gaze that could be just as frightening. It made Hughes a little sad, that the boys had been effectively forced to grow that tough, but the damage had already been done, and being anything less than entirely honest would not help his case. The brothers were both extremely protective of Bunny, and someone deliberately gathering information on her without consent was a pretty serious offense, even in Hughes’ own eyes.

He sighed, closing his eyes to try and gather his thoughts without those flashing gold orbs burning holes through him, “Bunny trusts the two of you more than she would trust anyone else; I won’t even try to argue,” He opened his eyes again, “I sincerely thought that if we looked, we might find relatives wondering where she went; I would be heartbroken if any of my girls went missing. What she went through…Bunny might not have felt comfortable asking about her family, so for me, it was like trying to get the worst over and done with—Roy was mostly curious, he can’t stand not knowing things. I thought it might be possible to let someone know she was at least alive, and okay.”

Hughes leaned on the table, folding his arms, “That doesn’t excuse what I did, and you have a right to be mad at me, and so does Bunny. Same goes for being mad at Roy…but…I’ve dealt with victims of kidnappings, and similar situations before. A lot of victims feel shame even though it isn’t their fault, and blame themselves, even if they had no control over what happened. That…sometimes prevents them from talking to people. The reason we’re telling you is because you have a right to know what we were doing, and personally, I didn’t expect things to be as bad as they were.”

Edward huffed and looked away, “There’s things she doesn’t tell us, you know, too, that she probably tells you or the Colonel. I don’t know why she trusts him, even for little things.”

“Why wouldn’t she trust him?”

Hughes watched how Ed’s posture suddenly seemed to close off, as if he were asking about something he should not be prying into, “…He’s not a nice guy,” was the eventual response. A more typical Ed-like reply would have probably been something more along the lines of an insult, about how smug or arrogant Roy was. Hearing something that sounded far more like a judge of character, versus simply a bias, made Hughes feel a hint of concern.

Alphonse spoke then, “We need to go find Bunny.” Being the one on the outside of the booth, he got up and Ed moved to follow.

Hughes stood up abruptly, “Let me pay the ticket and I’ll go with-_ow!” _He yelped and rubbed rubbed his left arm, beneath his shoulder where Ed had given him a swift strike with his flesh limb—the young State Alchemist must have been holding back, because the Lieutenant Colonel had seen reports talking about how the older Elric was capable of sending people flying with a punch. He was only _thirteen_, and was able to toss around grown men like it was nothing. That strength would only become more terrifying as he got older, and Hughes sometimes idly wondered where that sort of power came from. Even a _light_ punch stung pretty bad; he was going to have a bruise, probably.

“Hope I don’t get a court-martial for that, but I figure I’ll save Bunny the trouble and we’ll call it even, with that.” Ed said in response to the wounded look Hughes gave him, shoving his hands into his pockets.

The Lieutenant Colonel hissed through his teeth at the stinging pain, but gave both of the brothers a rueful grin, “Hey, you’re letting me off easy, right?”

“We could break bones if we wanted to,” Al responded, somehow sounding completely innocent, yet simultaneously threatening at the same time—goodness _gracious_ that sounded like Bunny when Roy started picking at Edward’s height—it somehow wound up being more terrifying than if he had just seemed outright angry.

He held up his hands in a placating gesture, “Ah, maybe _don’t_ put Roy—or me—in the hospital?”

Ed snorted, “Nah, Bunny can handle him without going that far. She can be pure evil when she’s mad. She’s probably already done something about it.” His brother gave a silent nod of agreement.

“Why doesn’t that reassure me?”

“It wasn’t intended to.”

Of the many ways that Mustang had spent his evenings, being shouted at, and then thrown into the river by an angry chimera was completely new, and highly unexpected, in spite of the fact that Bunny had even gone out of her way to threaten him with exactly what she had done. There were not many things that could make the Colonel truly upset in a way that would show outwardly, but his assertion that he was _not_ useless where water was involved—he _knew_ he was quick to snap at certain comments—seemed to have the effect of making people target him more. It seemed the chimera was not as polite as people liked to believe, or even as much as Mustang had thought, himself. That, or it was truly a testament to how far he had pushed her, that she not only exploited one of his weaknesses so readily, but even wagged her tail at his misery.

Now, with his uniform hanging off of his frame, sopping wet, and his black coat that he normally used when it was raining permeated as well, he was forced to endure curious stares as he escorted Bunny back to the military dorms. Considering that rules surrounding pets were relatively lax, it was normal for dogs to run loose on the property, so even if the brothers returned at a later time, she would be fine so long as she did not leave the area. While he was forced to wipe an errant strand of hair out of his face once again, the chimera responsible for his current predicament walked by his side, a spring in her step that only served to worsen his mood by comparison.

He dared not comment and ruin whatever reassurance or joy the chimera had found after his and Maes’ actions, because him being tossed in the river was likely only the beginning of whatever vengeance Bunny had decided to carry out. Mustang had the distinct feeling he was going to suffer in the future, because even if his own office knew, now, that she was actually human, most people still thought she was a dog, and she could get away with a lot more than most people. Even if there were many occasions where she claimed that she hated pretending to be a pet, she also took full advantage of the public perception that she was just an animal that did not know any better. He supposed that she would eagerly take any benefits if it made living her life with such a strange situation easier. He had watched her mess with his staff, plenty, so if he suddenly became a victim, he would just have to deal with it.

As far as he could tell, he had only suffered getting drenched and perhaps a slight amount of bruising on his right calf—she had definitely been restraining herself to avoid doing worse.

As they rounded a corner, there was a mean chuckle, before it turned into full-blown laughter that grated on his nerves. “In the river! That’s hilarious!” Fullmetal supported himself against his brother to avoid falling over as he proceeded to make fun of the Colonel’s suffering.

“It’s not that _funny!”_ Mustang snapped.

Maes cackled at him, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Roy, but that’s a rare look for you.” Why was his friend always such a traitor?

Bunny gave a snort and lifted up her snout, in a way that Mustang supposed meant she was preening at being complimented for a job well done, before shooting Maes a threatening look that had him flinching back and sweating. He was not entirely off the hook either, it seemed. Moments later, though, her gaze drifted to Alphonse, her head gaining a slight, tilt, like a question.

There was a nod from the armor, and the chimera huffed, before walking over to the brothers, quietly waiting for Fullmetal—who was _still_ laughing—to calm down, before simply resting her head on his left shoulder. He reached up with that arm and wrapped it partway around her neck, loosely, and when he spoke it was more like whispering, “Hey, you okay?” Something like real concern pushed past the amusement.

There was a quiet rumble in reply.

Maes looked her in the eye as she backed out of the semi-hug. “Bunny, I know it doesn’t make up for it, but I’m sorry.” He said.

The chimera snorted and gave him a tired look. In a public place like this talking was off-limits, and sometimes, relying on the Elrics to translate, Mustang had to admit, removed a lot of the sincerity or specificness to some of the things she wanted to say. No matter how good they were at translating, it was not completely perfect, and trying to make proper, full statements not related to the current topic were almost impossible. Bunny could seemingly ‘comment’ on something already being discussed, but had no real control over the topic, or any capability to give more complex statements.

Even with a translator, there was a limit to how much of a message Bunny could get across without actual words.

“Well, we already gave you the lecture,” Fullmetal stuck his hands in his pockets. Mustang saw Maes absently rub at his arm below the shoulder; did he actually get punched? As if catching the Colonel’s concern, his friend shot him a look that said he should stay quiet about it. Even if Fullmetal was a lower rank than Maes, retaliating over what was probably only a minor blow was probably going to cause more problems. In addition, Mustang had to respect Maes for dealing with the brothers with far more patience than he would ever have, himself.

“I’ll say…” Maes responded, “So I guess you three will head back to the dorms together, then? I’ll have to make sure Roy gets home, too. You did a number on him, Bunny, he’s soaked through. If we leave him like this much longer he’s going to sprout gills.”

There was a slight tail wag, at the last comment.

Fullmetal waved a hand dismissively, “Yeah, we can handle ourselves. Take the halfwit home and make sure he doesn’t get caught in some sort of trouble while he’s useless.”

_“Hey! _Shut your mouth, Fullmetal!” Mustang could not help but snap, at that, but his snarling was cut off by Maes walking over and slinging an arm across his shoulders, ignoring the fact that his clothing was damp. His friend had a broad, if not slightly relieved grin on his face, and the Colonel could only glare and quietly wish his gaze alone would ignite things. Someday he _would_ fry this man, he was certain.

“Now, now, Roy! We’ve got things to talk about! I’ll be crashing at your place for a few days. I haven’t called my darling wife Gracia in _hours_, and I’m having withdrawals from not hearing her and my girls’ beautiful voices!”

“What you _mean_ to say,” Mustang gritted out, “Is that you’re going to commandeer my phone.”

“That’s right! And I still have a bunch of photos I haven’t even shown you yet!”

Mustang could only quietly growl with irritation as he was forcibly led away by his doting-father best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maes Hughes proceeds to give his friend a stern lecture on how he needs to be a little more patient with his subordinate, before spending a full hour tormenting Mustang with family photos.
> 
> (Hawkeye meeting Rebecca for lunch)
> 
> Rebecca: I saw the funniest thing yesterday.
> 
> Hawkeye: What would that be?
> 
> Rebecca: Your commanding officer was completely drenched. It looked like he fell into a pool or something. He was walking with a really large dog, too.


	18. Understanding What You See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some morning drama occurs, before a new mission assignment, and a phone call. Bunny gets to meet Mustang's office for the first time.
> 
> _*IMPORTANT* Chapter 17 has been edited from its original publishing as of 3/12/2020. If you read the chapter before this date, you have not seen the version I decided to use for the story. I highly recommend you read it, as the edits are meant to be a more accurate reflection of the characters, and work with the plot more easily. The way events occurred has changed in some portions to be quite different from the original. This note has been placed in Chapter 18's summary to guarantee you read it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it took me awhile to post this chapter relative to my usual speed, please forgive me. I took some time to edit chapter 17 due to not being satisfied with the original way I wrote it, and the past month has been a bit stressful, some of it starting before the pandemic. I tend towards anxiety, and when it is severe enough, I develop panic attacks and insomnia, as well as a very nasty pain in my stomach. While I might still be able to draw or produce artwork, I tend to suffer a block with my writing when I am too stressed. It takes some time for me to settle my nerves, but writing is proving to be a good outlet for passing the time, when I am stuck at home.
> 
> Back to the story itself, the long-awaited chapter where Bunny meets Mustang's office. I tried to make this a more cheerful chapter, overall, but of course there is a little hurt/comfort, too. In addition to Bunny meeting all the soldiers, we also have some silly 'Ed is growing up' nonsense, relating to him not wanting to look like his father (And Bunny handling it gracefully). We've also got an OC villain which I won't spoil too much of, except it's there. We also have some Ed and Winry stuff mixed with the hurt and comfort. Keep in mind, this story is largely focused on platonic relationships, but we do retain some aspects of the original in here. I also don't want to dodge around the topic of romance entirely, because these characters are teenagers, firstly, and secondly, that might impact development, as well.
> 
> In other news, you may have seen me hint at it in a previous chapter, but Winry is seeking alternative outlets for her rage that don't involve whacking people in the head with a spanner, but she started off apparently doing it. This is a deliberate change, on my part, because while Ed gets picked at for having an unhealthy way of dealing with his temper, Winry's method of dealing with anger is similarly unhealthy. I like writing two characters bickering, far more than I enjoy writing about Winry hitting people. Otherwise, I don't plan on messing with Winry too much. Consider the lack of wrench-throwing to be Bunny's influence on Winry, and the only significant change to her character.
> 
> For comedic images, Winry kept a reinforced target where she works, and threw her wrenches at that when she got mad. She has very precise aim, now. She doesn't hurt people, but her intimidation factor went up.
> 
> What else...? Can't think of anything, since I spend hours writing these notes. This chapter is a bit more cheerful and soothing to read, and may cause canon divergence, yet again. I hope you like it!

The morning for Bunny began with the scent of blood hitting her nose, followed by waking up, fearing the worst, and realizing that Alphonse was yelling at his brother. “Ed!” When Al called Edward by name, versus ‘brother,’ that was usually a sign he was very upset, “Let go, you can’t use that to shave! Look what you did to your face!”

“Shut up Al! I don’t wanna look like _him!”_

“It’s hardly visible!”

“That doesn’t matter if _I _can see it!”

The chimera scrambled to her feet, not only because she could gather that the elder sibling had apparently cut his face open, but also the simple fact that if the two brothers kept yelling, they would disturb the soldiers living within the neighboring dorms. She quickly walked over to the open bathroom door, where most of her view was blocked by Al, “What’s going on?” Her voice was not loud, but it was a bit tense, “I smell blood.”

Alphonse hurriedly backed away, and Bunny could not suppress a hiss at seeing the number of nicks Edward had on his upper lip. The younger sibling explained, “Brother’s starting to grow facial hair, but he’s slicing up his face.” Ed, meanwhile, silently glared at her, something like a challenge in his eyes. Living in such close quarters with two teenage boys—specifically Ed, since the other was in a suit of armor and generally more mature about how he handled things—sometimes presented her with unusual challenges, as the trio’s oldest member. She could tell that Edward was extremely upset, but this was actually easier to deal with, when it came to adolescent drama. Boys and girls both shaved, after all.

“Al, move aside,” She went up to Edward as the younger sibling did as she asked, and she lowered her head to examine his face, sitting back on her haunches and gently grabbing his chin so she could inspect the damage. As far as she could tell, his attempt at shaving, using a blood-coated blade that he must have transmuted using some random bit of metal, had done nothing to remove any of the new facial hair. The hairs themselves, a pale gold color, were not the stiff, mature bristles of a beard, but the soft, downy fuzz that normally came beforehand. Given that Ed’s hair was a light shade, nobody would really see them. It would probably still be a few years, even, before growing a mustache or beard would pose a problem. As far as she could tell, they had appeared around the corners of his upper lip, and nowhere else.

“Ed, why didn’t you just think of going and asking a neighbor for a spare razor? Whatever you transmuted; it’s not working for you. You don’t need scars from shaving.” She finally said, releasing his face, and briefly checking to make sure she had not gotten blood on her claws.

His eyes widened faintly, and the glare faltered, as he moved to set the makeshift _weapon_ on the counter; clearly he had not expected that to be her first response. What she gathered from the boys arguing was that this was actually deeply personal for Ed. She could only guess he was talking about their father, whom Bunny knew absolutely nothing about, other than the fact that he was never around.

“I don’t wanna go out and have people see it. I hate it.” Ed grumbled in reply.

“If you want to shave it off, nobody will care if you’re just in need of a razor. You get a proper razor, and then you shave. It’s that simple. If you don’t want the neighbor to see, I’m sure Al can go and ask.” She released his chin and looked over at Alphonse, “You wouldn’t mind, right?” She asked.

Al huffed, in spite of not having lungs, “No, I just wish Ed wasn’t being _stupid_ and had asked before trying to transmute something.”

She sighed, “Well, would you mind going and doing that now? If you two keep arguing we’re going to get noise complaints.” The boys immediately looked embarrassed, with Ed turning slightly red and Al averting his gaze. Silently, the younger sibling left the dorm, intent on doing as she asked, while the chimera turned back to Edward. “Alright, first of all, let’s wash the blood off, and I’ll heal those cuts.” It seemed initially like he wanted to argue, but then he thought better of it and quietly proceeded to do as she asked, splashing his face with water and gingerly rubbing until the blood was gone. When that was done, she pressed a claw tip gently to his chin, and her transmutation circle activated. Within about three seconds, the array sealed the cuts on his lip completely, and the scars were almost nonexistent—even looking closely nobody would really see. “There, no one will ever know.” The injuries were so small, she barely felt the energy drain from the array.

Ed, meanwhile, was seemingly torn between wanting to sulk, and something like discomfort, probably more out of embarrassment over the entire situation. After a long, awkward silence with Bunny waiting for him to gather his thoughts, he spoke, “Since when do people give stuff like razors away?”

“You’ve never had to deal with this before, so I’m pretty sure they’ll cut you some slack. It isn’t really that visible, and it’s not really proper whiskers, but if you aren’t comfortable with it, then we’ll need to start keeping razors and such.”

It was at this point that Al came back in, holding a proper shaving razor in one of his hands, “The neighbor is really nice,” He said, reaching past the chimera to place it on the bathroom countertop. “They said to try not to make your face look like a murder scene, _Ed_,” He was still a little annoyed, but it had lessened, likely because he saw that the blood and cuts were now gone.

“Yeah, yeah,” the elder sibling grumbled. He reached to take the razor, but the chimera gently stopped him, and he gave her a perplexed look.

“Alright, so, I’m gonna stop you right there. We don’t have any proper shaving supplies except for the razor, so use your shampoo instead. You can still get razor-burn if you don’t condition your skin a bit, so do that first.”

“How do _you_ know about this? You’re a girl.”

“Women shave, Ed,” She responded flatly. That seemed to make him go quiet, so she continued, “Just…wet the skin, use your shampoo, and you don’t have to dig to cut the hairs. Just lightly drag it, and make sure you’re following the way the hair grows. Go _slowly_, so you don’t nick yourself by accident. And…that’s it.”

“…Right…thanks….” The chimera and Alphonse then ceased their fretting and stopped crowding Edward in the bathroom, and went back into the main room of the dorm, leaving him to follow Bunny’s instructions. She was pretty sure male figures were supposed to teach their sons how to shave, but the chimera could only blame their absent father for the situation. He must have had facial hair of some sort, because Ed did not even have proper whiskers and was upset over having fuzz on his lip. He must have _hated_ the man, to be _that_ averse to resembling him.

As much as Bunny loved her own parents, though, if her father had just disappeared, as what seemed to be the case for the boys, she was not so sure she would have been any less angry about it. She probably would not have been proud of the fact that, as a human, she had taken after him. Her mother had often complained about how her daughter had not inherited more of her features, and had not lived long enough to see how Bunny had become more like her in appearance as she got older.

Now, though, thinking about family resemblance hurt, because the chimera no longer looked like she had even come from human parents, in the first place.

“Al, can you help me with my vest?” She asked, wanting to distract herself.

“Sure,” He went and retrieved the ballistic vest from where it was leaning against the wall, and the chimera patiently allowed him to maneuver her front limbs so that he could fasten the three buckles that held it together, “Thanks for helping brother,” He said, quietly, so that Ed would not hear as he went about his own grooming ritual for the morning, now with the addition of shaving. It was a mystery to Bunny, that not only had he woken up first, but that Alphonse had not caught him sooner. It was perhaps a testament to how bad the recent stresses had been, that she slept for so long.

“I’m glad he didn’t fight me too much over it,” She responded, her voice barely audible as Al adjusted the vest so that it sat properly.

“Me, too. You still need to eat breakfast, right?”

“Yeah,”

He went over to where her food bowl sat in one corner and filled it, moving aside to let the chimera eat. At some point in the middle of her meal, Edward came back out of the bathroom, and she briefly glanced over her shoulder at him. It seemed he had managed to avoid cutting his lip this time, and was now rubbing the spot with his left hand, a thoughtful expression on his face. Having no hair on your skin was an unusual sensation, from what she remembered of life before she had a fur coat. “Better?” She asked.

“Lots, thanks,” He went to go finish getting ready for the day, putting on his jackets, and the rest of the morning continued in relative peace, at least until they got out the door and went out into the yard that stood in front of the dorms.

A random military police officer, one they were not familiar with, immediately greeted them, saluting at Alphonse, much to Ed’s chagrin, “Major Elric! Colonel Roy Mustang is requesting your presence at East Command, with the order that you come immediately, Major Elric, sir!”

“Great, what does he want?” Ed asked.

“Major Elric! I am not permitted to say, Major Elric, sir!” Bunny guessed that by the youthful appearance of this officer, he was fresh out of boot camp, and therefore, how to respond to a commanding officer or drill sergeant was still fresh in his mind. The contrast between Edward’s gruff, informal response and the strict use of titles and yelling to be clear from the officer was a little amusing. The chimera took a moment to appreciate it, in spite of the fact that she was worried; there was a sense of urgency that Mustang’s requests usually lacked.

“Got it, right, we’ll be on our way…”

Coming into Mustang’s office, the trio was greeted by the sight of the Colonel’s entire office staff being present, plus Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, everyone turning to look as Edward roughly kicked open the door, which sported a dent to match the one at the conference room. “Fullmetal, good to see you here, after your blatant destruction of government property.” Mustang said, wearing his untouchable mask and interlacing his fingers, the hands angled slightly to show part of the arrays that were on his gloves, as if he were trying to make a silent threat without actually appearing threatening.

“What? The door still works, doesn’t it?” Ed asked, his voice nonchalant, while he was scowling with hostility. Although he had been amused yesterday, his expression was even more aggressive than normal. The Colonel had not yet been fully forgiven for his actions, “Come on, you said it was _urgent_, what’s going on?” He shoved his hands in his pockets while the three filed into the room, Bunny moving to get the door and close it behind them.

“We have a situation that demands our full attention. I want you, Alphonse, and Bunny to lend your assistance. I’ll be helping out as well.”

“Great, we have to work with you_._” The sarcasm was almost scathing in its intensity, “Fine, so what are we dealing with?”

As if in reply, the Colonel held up a stack of papers, and Ed went to take them, looking the briefing over, “We found out that an insurgent group has been planning to attack several places in East City, and we’ve managed to track down a base of operations. We have people from Central here to defend civilian areas just in case, but they want strong fighters to go after their main headquarters. We’re hoping to stop them before they can do anything.”

“You couldn’t have told us this a bit sooner?” Ed asked.

“And risk the three of you charging in without backup? That’s not a chance we’re willing to take. There are several rogue soldiers suspected to be a part of this group, as well as a former State Alchemist turned traitor. The Marionette Alchemist, Florian Ludwig. He’s very dangerous, and specializes in a form of alchemy that allows him to control weaponized puppets.”

Ed clenched his jaw, glaring daggers at the man, but miraculously, he held his tongue, and that alone was enough for Bunny to catch surprise flickering across the Colonel’s features. He had probably expected that he would have to argue the point more. “Fine, fine, whatever, we’re backup. What are we doing? Where are we going and when?”

“The raid will be tonight at nine. We’ll be going together, Fullmetal, and this won’t be a solo mission with your group, so I expect you to obey orders.” There was a hint of command in his voice, “When we arrive we will split into separate groups to surround them. You’ll be working with Falman and Fuery.”

“Better than working with you directly, I guess.” Ed murmured, his ire lessening just a fraction. He looked at the two soldiers in question, “How good are you in a fight?”

“Well, I’m a decent shot…” Kain’s smile was a bit sheepish, but Falman was outright sweating, and gulped as if he suddenly had a lump in his throat. The chimera could smell something like a hint of panic at the prospect of what was about to happen. While one of the two officers would be fine, the other seemed extremely anxious, which was not reassuring in the slightest.

Breda walked up to the Warrant Officer and slapped him on the back, “Cheer up, Falman, you’ll be fine if you’re working with the Boss and his group!”

Alphonse looked at him, “Everything will be fine, you’ll see.” He tried to say reassuringly.

“…I hope so…” He murmured.

Bunny snorted, “Hey, if you’re freaked out, just keep an eye out and warn me about guns.” Everyone who had not already heard her speak gave her a fascinated look, but she ignored it and continued, “If I’m occupied, I can’t always see who’s pointing a weapon at me, and just because I’m wearing a vest doesn’t mean I’m eager to see how well it works.”

Falman gaped at her, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, almost like a fish, before speaking, “…Very well…” He said weakly.

Breda stared for a moment, “…We were told you could talk, but I was starting to wonder if that whole meeting ever happened. You were quiet.”

Kain pushed his glasses up on his nose, from where they had been slipping, “Your voice is a lot different from how I thought it would sound.”

“…I don’t usually talk around here, and I’m not good with introductions for obvious reasons…so…I was just going to wait and jump into the conversation whenever.” She then turned to look at Kain, “What did you _think_ my voice would sound like?”

He floundered, “Ah…”

Her tail wagged, “Relax, I’m messing with ya.”

“Oh…thank goodness…”

Hawkeye smiled at her, “You’re pretty glad to be able to talk to everyone in the office, aren’t you?”

Bunny looked over at the only other woman in the room, “Oh, you have no idea.”

Ed shoved his free hand in his pockets, frowning at something in the report after he had turned a page, “This is gonna be an interesting mission. This Marionette guy can fight at the same time that he’s controlling multiple of these puppet-things. I have a theory on how he makes them work, but the amount of concentration and skill it would take is no joke.”

Hughes looked up at that, “Wait, you figured it out? We know the puppets have a strong string connected to them, but nobody actually knows how they work, since he kept that a closely-guarded secret.”

“The inner materials of Bunny’s vest are made using a high-strength polymer. Under normal circumstances you wouldn’t be able to mess with them, much, but if you were continuously transmuting the fiber’s length…”

Al looked up, “…It’s like he’s using fabric in place of muscles.”

“Bit like yours, huh, Bunny?” Ed looked at her. The chimera’s transmutations depended on always having a connection to what she was manipulating, and sometimes it looked like the water she was using was connected by just a small stream—very string-like.

“Right,” Breda suddenly spoke, “You’re an alchemist, too. You got some sort of unique skill with fighting, or is the healing array the only thing you’ve done?”

“Well, I do have some combat capabilities with alchemy, but since I can’t risk discovery, it’s only in case of emergencies. I don’t usually need to rely on transmutations, though.” Her ears lowered, and she turned to look between Kain and Falman, “That’s not going to be a problem, is it? I draw blood, and me fighting is pretty much just mauling people. You’re not squeamish, are you?”

“No, I don’t have a problem with it,” Kain answered.

“I’m not experienced with combat, but blood isn’t an issue.” Falman responded. That explained the apparent nervousness.

“Okay, good.”

Mustang spoke up, then, “Well, then, everyone’s been briefed. Fullmetal, I expect you, Alphonse, and Bunny to be at the designated location on time. We still have some work that needs to be wrapped up, here, before we can begin setting things up. Whatever you have planned for today, get it done and come early so you aren’t late. We need as many people as we can, when we’re dealing with rogue State Alchemists or soldiers. These are dangerous terrorists with military training; don’t underestimate them.”

Ed gave a lazy salute, “Got it.” There was a faint crease that appeared in Mustang’s brow, no doubt from the sloppiness of the salute. From the frown Hughes was giving his friend, he was probably mentally comparing the fact that Ed gave perfect salutes to the Lieutenant Colonel, while deliberately being disrespectful to his own commanding officer.

With that, the three left the room, and Bunny assessed whether or not she could still speak in the hallway as they went to leave East Command. When she decided there were no eavesdroppers, she spoke, “It’s a secret what we’re doing, but you should probably call Winry just so she knows we’re okay.” Bunny said.

“Why? She’ll just cry and worry if I don’t tell her anything.” Ed responded.

“Just…talk to her? About anything in general, she wouldn’t be upset over that. She hasn’t spoken to any of us over the phone in a bit, and I told her I’d nag the two of you.”

“Alright, fine, fine…we’ll give her a call.”

The phone booth that the trio went to was located in an area filled with bars neighboring the East City slums; it was innocent during the daytime, and almost deserted save for the rare drifter, which was telling, in a way, about what kind of place it would be at night. At night, it would likely be flooded with crowds of people, and was probably quite seedy, but nobody would glance twice at the three passing by when it was still before noon, even if they stopped to make a phone call. It was one of the few places in the city where Bunny could probably talk in broad daylight, and get away with it, because of how little activity there was. Edward generally picked remote phone booths for calling Rockbell Automail for this reason. Al and Bunny stood aside, giving him some space for privacy, while he dialed.

The dial picked up on the first ring, _“Rockbell Automail, this is Winry speaking.”_

“Hey, Winry,” Ed spoke into the receiver.

_“Oh! Ed!”_ he heard her shift away from the phone on her end _“-Grandma, it’s Ed!”_ He could not make out more than muffled noises indicating that the two were talking, before Winry came closer to the phone and her voice was clearer, _“I’m so glad you called, how are you? You didn’t break my automail or anything, did you?” _A slight warning in her tone.

“Ah, no, Bunny just recommended we call since it’d been awhile,” He said, “She’s been making sure I keep it maintained. I told you she fusses almost as much as you do.” He clenched and relaxed his right hand a few times; the joints were carefully lubricated, so only a faint click could be heard as the fingers and wrist moved. The chimera’s tendency to fuss ultimately ended with his automail being in better condition, and it made little noise. Most people still had no idea that two of his limbs were prosthetic.

_“Well good. You’re a knucklehead, so of course you’ll break it if someone else isn’t keeping an eye on you. Is Al doing okay? Bunny? How are they?”_

“Well, they’re doing fine, I guess. It’s weird, we’ve had the past few days to research the Stone on our own, and yet it feels more hectic than the missions the Colonel sends us on. In another month I’ll probably be heading over for maintenance, just to get everything checked over.” He needed to go on a regular basis to have Winry look at his arm and leg; hopefully, it would need to be adjusted because he had grown some. A part of him hated when his automail had to be removed for adjustments, on the principle that it hurt to have it reattached, but he could not help but feel disappointed at the prospect of nothing changing. He was growing, but it was frustrating, how slow that happened.

Too, it was a lot easier to go in and have his automail looked at, when Winry was finally learning some restraint with her throwing arm. He had a feeling Bunny was involved, somehow, but he had no clear idea of what had motivated the change. All he knew was that the transition to alternate forms of rage had occurred at some point after he became a State Alchemist. It was good, because he was no longer getting cracks in his skull, but at the same time, the mechanic was proving that she did not need to use her wrench to scare people.

_“Well, just give us a call when you’re heading over, kay? So what else is going on?”_

“Well, we got sent to the Eisnabe mountains a few days ago…”

…

Bunny and Al were a distance from the phone booth, while Edward was talking to Winry, the chimera sitting in an almost soldierly fashion next to the younger Elric sibling. Al may have lacked expression on his armor, but the little red points of light narrowed in a knowing way, “Brother has a crush…” There was a playful lilt to his voice, but then he felt a pang of loneliness, too. He forced his nonexistent smile for a moment, before he sighed and looked down, “I hope I can have a girlfriend, someday.” A little sad. Was everyone moving on without him? Brother and Winry were falling in love, or at least, that was what he thought was happening. Ed was going to start _shaving_ to get rid of fuzz on his lip. What was going to happen to him?

The chimera hummed, getting his attention again, and when he looked at her, she was wagging her tail. When she was trying to offer support or comfort, Bunny made a humming noise, which seemed to be a habit she had adopted for him, knowing he was reduced only to sight and sound for his senses. There was no tune to it, and the chimera’s voice was not exactly that of a singer’s, but there was something musical about her hum, to his nonexistent ears. It was vaguely alien, with a sort of resonance. “Starting to have an interest in girls? Do I need to keep a closer eye on you?”

“Ah…” He had no idea how to respond, and her tail wagged harder. He could feel the mental confusion and emotions that came with that question, and knew he was embarrassed, but he could not feel a blush on his face, a nervous sweat, or any of the physical symptoms that he knew a flesh-and-blood human body would have experienced.

“Don’t worry, Al; someday you’ll find the right person. You’re only turning thirteen next month, though. There isn’t a hurry.” Did it seem like he was in a rush? She had told him that he would find someone, though, with the sort of surety as if she knew. So many people got scared of how tall and strange he looked in the armor, though. Who would give him a chance like this, when he was a spiky metal shell? They never saw when he was hiding kittens inside the hollow cavity that made up the armor’s—his—interior, or when he would stop to admire flowers. Would anyone ever take the time to get to know him properly?

He missed his human body.

Alphonse was quiet, then, and he knew that because he lacked a proper scent, and an expression on his face, he could easily pretend that the chimera had cheered him up with her words…but she probably understood, even better than Ed, how Al felt, because she had been messed up by a transmutation, too. How did _Bunny _feel about her body, with things like dating? She was old enough that if she wanted to, she could have gotten married.

He could not lie to her, so he looked down at the ground again, and his voice came out quiet, “…I feel like I’m getting left behind…brother’s going to start shaving and he likes Winry…”

The hum that came from Bunny this time was more thoughtful and concerned, a different sort of music. “Your voice changed recently, didn’t it? You aren’t getting left behind; maybe you can’t shave and you aren’t dealing with all the issues Ed is going through right now, but eventually, you will. You’ll get your body back, and learn to shave, and deal with all the other embarrassing stuff that has people wanting to sink into the earth. If you want love, you’ll find it, too.”

That second-to-last part got an awkward laugh out of him, and although it did not make it…_entirely_ better…it helped.

“You gonna be okay?” She asked.

“…I think so…” He looked at her, and her face was turned away, as if she did not want him to look her in the eye.

When Bunny thought something could not be helped, Al had noticed, she would try, with every fiber of her being, to prevent someone from seeing her pain. He said nothing, but he reached out and rested a hand on the back of her neck where it was visible past her vest. The chimera leaned until she was resting her side against the armor, but said nothing else.

She had worries, just like him, but just like her musical, tuneless hum helped Al, the chimera was comforted by his semi-hug, even if it was a cold, empty shell.

….

“I’m pretty sure I can ask the Hughes if he’d take a photo and develop it for us, but we’ll be visiting in the future, though, so you can see it.”

There was an agonized groan on the other end, _“I’m so curious! Bunny’s really good at designing things, but if you said it looks like your own style, I’m wondering how someone improved it to look nice!”_

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with my style. It looks cool, it’s intense and tough!” He argued. Why did everyone think he had no taste? He wished someone saw how awesome skulls and spikes were, and using bright, bold colors was not always a bad choice. Bunny had even told him she respected his use of bright colors (Even as she, herself, worked on an almost monochrome art piece).

_“You go overboard, Ed. Not everyone wants skulls with fangs and bat wings and devil horns. I’m not even an artist and I can tell you things don’t look good.”_

He gave an annoyed huff, “Well, whatever, I’m an underappreciated artist.” He refused to acknowledge the sudden laughter on the other end of the phone.

_“So, did you finally give up your hatred and try to drink milk?”_

He immediately felt his right hand clench again—there was no hot or cold sensation, but he had a sense of pressure. “I still hate it, for your information, if I taste the stuff I want to throw up. Why would I want to drink it?”

_“You’re never going to get to a normal height if you keep whining about the taste.”_ She nagged.

“Shut up! It’s my choice to drink it or not, and I refuse! And what was that about my height!?”

Winry’s voice moved a distance away from her end of the phone, and she was shouting something, before her voice came back._ “Ed?”_

“…Yeah?” He would have argued about the height thing, except he knew what that tone in her voice meant.

_“I’m glad you’re okay.”_ He didn’t know how to respond to that (a warm, sunny feeling in his chest he refused to acknowledge, and how his heart eased, like some of the pressure had been taken off his shoulders)

“I guess you gotta go, huh?”

_“Yeah…but we’ll get to talk lots when you come by for another visit. Take care, kay? Tell Al and Bunny I said hi.”_

“You take care, too.”

_“I will. Miss you guys, bye.”_

“Bye,”

He hung up the phone on his end, first, and turned to look over at where Bunny was just…leaning against Al. Sometimes he found them like that, and he wondered what his younger brother and the chimera talked about, while his back was turned.

They were his responsibility, and he would keep them safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, Florian Ludwig's surname was the original surname I intended to give Bunny, but 'Millicent Lehr' had a prettier ring to it. He's also my first State Alchemist-type OC, and his specialty was actually an ability I contemplated initially for Bunny, before deciding it was too overpowered for her (Water as Bunny's element suits her better anyway). Depending on how people like the Marionette Alchemist's concept, I may create more State Alchemists. I have several ideas.
> 
> I'm personally excited to write Florian. When it comes to villains, he's extremely charming and fascinating as a character, even for the author.
> 
> Now back to the script, a concept I didn't use:
> 
> Ed, looking at a photo of one of Florian Ludwig's puppets: Hey Bunny? What was that legendary creature that you said lured people into the river?
> 
> Bunny: Singing Tom?
> 
> Havoc: Singing Tom? Really? That doesn't sound too scary.
> 
> Ed: (Proceeds to show havoc a really creepy-looking metal puppet with two pairs of arms, a gigantic mouth filled with multiple rows of teeth, and a snake-like tail)
> 
> Havoc: Woah woah why would someone name a thing like that 'Singing Tom?'


	19. Rehersal for a Revolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soldiers throughout East City raid the base of a group of rebels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most complex fight scene I have ever done, and I hope I did it right, because I usually don't do them like this. What I can tell you is I agonized over how to write the OC villain, and wound up not really making him as villainous personality-wise as I thought I would. In fact I feel pretty sympathetic as the author, but then again, he's my own creation, so of course I put a lot of love and care into his development. Ultimately, too, I think it fits better, because not all bad guys out there are raving lunatics. Bunny does play a role, here, but it's actually far more minor in this chapter. The main focus of it is Mustang, followed by Edward.
> 
> Florian Ludwig, the Marionette Alchemist, is from an idea I had, relating to 'thinking outside the box' as a concept for how an alchemist would fight. The idea being that alchemy can be basic, but if you're clever and creative, just how far can you stretch the limits? As a result, I have somehow managed to make an alchemist who fights using puppets, and the end result is...I personally think it's awesome, because it's still gritty and dark like the usual FMA, but it's also kind of fantastical, in that way you would expect alchemy to be. His design, as well as his puppets, are inspired by several different concepts. Florian is inspired by Jhin from League of Legends, where I don't play it, but I like the development of the character...though really Florian isn't a carbon-copy, personality-wise, nor is he a marksman or serial killer.
> 
> Some of Florian's puppets are designed to vaguely resemble Skeksis, from The Dark Crystal, which people say were things that haunted their nightmares as children. When you get older, though, you can appreciate that the show really was an amazing world, revolving around puppetry, and even newer versions focus on having actual, physical puppets. The Skeksis themselves are iconic and very distinct. CGI is used more for minor things in their Age of Resistance series rather than completely replacing the physical aspect, such as giving characters eyes that move, manipulating hands so they seem to grab objects, and giving the Skeksis tongues. Most of their work is still based around puppets.
> 
> This chapter is a bit on the long side. Please enjoy!

Several glass capsules, only a few centimeters long, and thin, like a straw, were easy to produce by transmuting broken bottles or sand with a high silica content. Within the pouch that Alphonse kept strapped to his right hip, alongside some chalk for transmutation circles, and in Edward’s pocket, as well, these capsules were tucked into makeshift containers, padded to prevent them from jostling and breaking too soon. Sealed tightly, to prevent a scent from leaking free, each one was filled with anise extract. They normally never saw a need for precautions like these, but going after a terrorist group—they could consider themselves ‘rebels’ but they were regardless attacking civilians—warranted extra measures to ensure that not a single criminal escaped. It was a simple matter in a fight to throw one of the capsules underfoot, and let it break when someone stepped on it. Once a person was marked by the scent, it would be very hard for them to wash it off thoroughly enough that Bunny would not find them beforehand.

The tagging capsules were one extra precaution on a list of things they could do to prevent escapees, even if they might never be used, or even seem redundant. They fulfilled a similar function to the act of nicking someone just enough to draw blood, or cutting off part of their clothing. The most efficient way to stop someone from running was to transmute a barrier, but because the Marionette Alchemist was present, he was likely to destroy any walls they created. They would prepare for the fight as if they anticipated the outcome of losing someone and having to track them down. Hoping for the best, and preparing for the worst.

Using an automail blade, Ed’s last resort was aiming for the tendons in the leg, but since that entailed causing permanent damage, he was reluctant to use it.

Something that was extremely important for Ed, though, was the fact that this was the first time anyone from the Colonel’s team had ever seen him, Al, and Bunny ever actually carry out a mission. He would never admit it aloud, that he wanted to prove just how effective they were at dealing with a threat. He hated being seen as a kid, when, in spite of his age, he was still doing the same sort of work as an adult.

He did not even want to think about how Mustang factored into this mess. The halfwit, consistently looking for opportunities to criticize and judge, all while wearing an untouchable mask. He was not nearly as good at reading the Colonel as Bunny seemed to be, but he was figuring it out as time passed, and he could identify flickers of surprise or alarm. Ed wanted to pummel some criminals, and let it be a silent statement about the fact that it could have been Mustang that Ed was targeting. He said it, often enough, that he wanted to punch the man in the face, and that had not changed in the years since he had met the Colonel.

The briefing for the raid they were going to participate in discussed a simple plan that seemed flawless on paper, but would probably suffer complications over time. Groups of people would seemingly scatter around the city via different routes, when in reality, they were forming a ring that would slowly close around the abandoned theater building that seemed to be the base of operations, and converge near the actual start time, at nine. Multiple higher-ranked officers were responsible for leading charges from cardinal directions, with Mustang’s team—including Ed, Al, and Bunny—coming from the west. The nature of the attacks was determined by the officers, which explained why the Colonel had assigned Kain and Falman to their group, while he apparently took everyone else.

Regarding the people he got stuck with, Ed resisted the impulse to view them as babysitters. That task was made easier by the fact that Falman had looked absolutely terrified about his assignment, and Kain had never been an imposing figure. Overall, they were nice guys, and as long as they did not cause problems for how the three usually worked, things would be fine. He was more frustrated by the offhand comment Bunny made, that as a Major, with them assigned to his group, Ed had a responsibility for keeping them safe, because his rank was higher. He had no idea whether he should be furious, or pleased.

When they arrived at their location after descending a large flight of steps on the sidewalk that bordered an enormous hill in the road, the sky had already gone dark, and Ed had thrown his hood over his head; They moved mostly by cutting through alleyways, since there was not an easy way to hide Al, and Bunny was liable to draw attention as well. The area they were in seemed run-down, filled with brick buildings that looked like skeletons of their former selves, with broken windows and gutted rooms.

The theater was bordered by a vacant shophouse that might have once been an antique store, based on the clutter inside that was gathering dust. They slipped inside via a door in the alleyway on the far side, and found Mustang and his men gathered in a back room that seemed to be a storage area, filled with dusty boxes. Hughes was manning a radio of sorts, at a low table where it was easy to see where the accumulated grime had been disturbed, as thick as it was. Ed felt a tickle in his nose and hoped he did not sneeze, because the aura of relative silence in the room suggested they needed to keep down any noise.

“Alright, we’re here a little early,” Ed stepped aside and let Al and Bunny slip past him into the room. The chimera lightly bumped him in the shoulder as she entered, and moved to stand on his left side, while Al was on his right, “I’m gonna ask for clarification, and when that’s done, we’re going and putting up a barrier to keep people from leaving through the emergency exits.”

Mustang’s face was unreadable, “You aren’t responsible for going after Marionette. They’ve brought me in specifically to deal with him. Go after the other rebels, and leave the alchemist to me.” There was a firmness in the Colonel’s words that suggested he was not leaving room for argument. Edward would do his best not to take it as an insult to his talents, when flame alchemy would probably be far more effective in dealing with polymer strings. Mustang could effectively heat the puppets to the point that the fibers melted and no longer worked correctly.

“Fine, that’s doable; you just try not to get ripped up by a homicidal puppet,” He responded, mockery in his voice, and perhaps, underlying the insult, a genuine hint of concern that came out, against his will. Ed still remembered having a cleaver lodged in his shoulder, and the scar was something he found himself staring at, on a bad day, reminding himself of how close he had gotten to getting killed. He did not like the Colonel, but he was not about to wish death on him. Even so, the prospect of saying ‘good luck’ normally made bile rise in his throat, so Mustang would have to deal with whatever spite Ed mixed with it.

“I would almost say you sound concerned,” Of course he caught onto it and was annoying enough to say something.

“Who’s concerned? You must be getting old.”

“I’m not even _thirty_, Fullmetal,” Mustang’s voice took a harsh, offended edge to it, and a bit of tension around his eyes suggested that the comment had successfully grated on his nerves, the way Ed had intended it to. Ed gave him a smirk that he would _fervently deny_ mirrored the man he was taunting, before checking his watch. Seeing the time, he turned to Al, “Alright, we’ve got a few minutes, let’s hurry up and get the barrier,” to Hawkeye, rather than the Colonel, he asked, “Is there an exit door on the other side of the building? I’d rather skip transmuting one, in case we mess with a load-bearing wall.”

“Through the hallway,” She answered, “We’ll be following you in a minute.”

“Thanks, come on, Al, Bunny,” Ed gestured to them and moved past Havoc and Breda—the latter whose eyes were red and irritated, as he rubbed at his nose with a white handkerchief embroidered with little yellow chicks, while the former was smoking a cigarette and likely making the allergy situation worse.

“Try not to get killed! I’ll be here waiting for you guys to come back, safe and sound!” Hughes called after them, before seeming distracted, “Fuery, Falman, you’re supposed to be on their team, go!” Following that, the sounds of footsteps of two soldiers trailing after the youngest participants in the raid.

“Okay,” Al called behind them, responding to the sentiment of trying to stay alive.

They exited through the door and into the alleyway next to the theater, and Kain and Falman came through the door after them, the Warrant Officer trembling while Kain simply watched, “You know, thinking about it, I don’t think we’ve ever seen you guys do fancier alchemy, only the end result…”

“Well, this is pretty basic,” He shot Bunny a look when she snorted in a nonverbal form of denial that said she disagreed; she struggled with transmuting stone. “Al, can you get that side while I get his one?” He gestured to the ends of the alleyway with his thumb and index finger. They went over to the edges of the alley. Al pulled a piece of chalk from the pouch on his hip, and swiftly sketched out a circle on his end, while Ed moved to clap.

There was a flash of alchemic blue light, and a wall rose from the ground, connecting the two buildings and effectively preventing people from leaving the alleyway. They made sure to make it tall and as smooth as possible, to prevent someone from climbing. “That outta do the trick,” Ed commented, as he faintly picked up more people moving in the distance—probably other groups moving to block exits, like what they were doing. He turned to look at Bunny, “You gonna hang out here and tear up anyone who comes out?”

“I have a feeling that charging in would be best,” Bunny responded, nose twitching like she was picking up smells, and her claws drummed against the ground as she lowered her head so that it was level with the rest of her body, a stalking posture, as she turned to look at Kain and Falman, “I won’t be able to talk, when we do that; too risky with all the other soldiers running around. Try to warn me if you see bullets and such aimed my way.”

“Got it…” Kain responded.

The temperature outside was starting to drop, just enough that there was a chill in the air, and the sun had vanished a while ago, cloaking everything in darkness. A strong breeze picked up, but it was not likely that they would see any rain for at least another day. Through the buildings that were empty, one could hear it whistling, producing an eerie hum that would have terrified plenty of people. Slowly, then, the Colonel and the rest of his team filtered into the alleyway, with Mustang tugging on his gloves. Hawkeye had her weapons, two pistols, drawn, and the other soldiers were ready with theirs.

“Alright, it’s showtime,” the Colonel said.

“…In a theater…how fitting,” Bunny murmured.

Breda placed his foot against the door, and kicked it down.

The silence was deafening.

Mustang had seen plenty of theaters, going on cover dates with his informants, but the first thing he could conclude when his team—along with others entering through other emergency exits or the front—was that this one had probably been used for plays, even operas, and it had fallen into a horrible state of disrepair. A damaged part of the roof left light filtering in, and the seating had been destroyed by the elements. There were droppings and errant twigs, scattered where birds had decided to use the building as a nesting area. The seating would have been vivid red, but the dim lighting made everything seem blue or grey in appearance. In spite of the soldiers streaming into the room, it was quiet, and that, in itself, was not a comforting sign.

Whispers from the other soldiers in separate groups were audible.

“-Geez, the dust in here.”

“I…don’t like this guys…”

“Scatter and look around, they might be hiding.”

“…It’s gonna be backstage…gotta be…”

“Wonder how long this place was abandoned for…”

“…Flame and Fullmetal are here…” Of course he was well-known, and while male soldiers responded to Mustang’s presence with loathing, normally, they would largely feel reassured having him around for a fight. He got the distinct impression some of them were looking at Alphonse, rather than the actual Fullmetal, his older sibling. Either way, two alchemists known for their fighting prowess would help produce some optimism.

“Bunny, where do you think they are?” Al asked the chimera, still moving like a wolf stalking prey, her steps slow and measured, ears pricked forward, and eyes fixed on the stage in a pointed stare, although her nose twitched. She gave a low growl deep in her throat, and blew a puff of air that sounded more like a hiss. Her nose pointed fixedly at the stage and its tall red curtain, and Mustang realized her fur was standing on-end.

There was an ear flick, and a faint increase of dust, and a glance up, and Mustang realized they were standing underneath one of the boxes that would have once held private audiences.

_“Get down!”_ Mustang shouted, as his ears detected something whistling through the air, narrowly missing his head as everyone dropped to the ground on his order, even the chimera.

Chaos broke loose.

There were several shrieks and gurgles, and Mustang _knew_ that meant death, while there was a tell-tale rattle of curtains opening. The curtains on the stage were ripped aside, letting the light from behind them spill into the room, and men with military-grade weapons aimed them into the auditorium. At the same time, the thing that had passed over him and his men, narrowly missing with what he thought was a blade, landed, revealing what could only be a weaponized puppet from Marionette, for there was no other way to describe it.

In separate areas, some of them produced ominous grinding sounds interspersed with metallic clanging, blood gleaming on their appendages, having dropped down from the floor above. The one that stood before his own group was bipedal, and digitigrade, a nightmarish maw filled with multiple rows of teeth that whirled as they rotated in a ring down a serpentine throat, lethal like a meat grinder. Six arms, four of them armed with sharpened blades, positioned themselves at many angles. It was crude steel and a hollow, skull-like face, torso featuring rotating parts meant to crush the limbs of anyone who got too close.

He registered a shining blue thread, impossibly long, connected to its back, and then it spun around, and he backed away to dodge a clubbed, articulated tail, almost tripping. Fullmetal clapped his hands and slid along the ground, tapping the puppet’s left leg, and forcing the metal plates of the limb to merge, making it move with an awkward limp as the head swung around in an effort to go after him.

Fullmetal was rather small for his age, so it did not come as a surprise when he was easily able to dance away from it, “What are you doing, Colonel!? The stage! _The stage!_ Isn’t your alchemy supposed to work at a distance!?_”_ He shouted frantically. He had to pay attention at the same time to evade the puppet, dodging lethal blades.

There was a brief moment where weapons went off from the stage, and more cries of pain as bullets flew past, “Don’t you _dare,”_ Mustang gritted his teeth. He slid his fingers together and there was an orange spark, followed by a whistle and the tell-tale _snap!_ of his alchemy, as a flash of fire shot away from his outstretched arm and zigzagged towards the stage, exploding on impact, and knocking the rebel soldiers aside while incinerating part of the curtains and the raised platform of the stage, “Give me _orders_, Fullmetal!”

He did take a moment to ponder that his actions matched what Fullmetal had insisted he focus on, but considering it stopped what seemed like a planned attempt to mow everyone down, he could hardly complain about the end result.

“Guys!? I think they knew we were coming!” Breda shouted.

“I hate to interrupt your shouting match,” Havoc said, “But I think we need to focus on the fight!”

“Now’s not the time to argue!” Alphonse yelled, the words aimed at Mustang and his brother, as he shoved one of his arms into the puppet’s mouth with an awful shower of sparks that left scratches on his forearm and a saw-like sound, blocking it from getting closer. A harsh bark from Bunny, even Mustang could interpret that as something similar to what the younger Elric had said, though he was not an expert in translating animal sounds.

More people began charging past the ruined curtains of the stage and smoldering crater, running to join into a fight that mostly involved gunfire between the soldiers and rebels. More soldiers were entering through the front of the theater, the southern charge group having the greatest number of people. Meanwhile, the puppets that were armed with something more than sharpened blades aimed their pistols, including the one in front of them, now. There was a harsh bark, before a swipe from Bunny clinked into the razor-tipped claws of the puppet’s right hand and wrenched the gun it had been holding away. A shot from Hawkeye, perfectly aimed, destroyed the thumb the puppet had been using to hold the pistol in its left, disarming it, save for the blades.

“Colonel!” Hawkeye shouted, as she, Havoc, and Breda turned to aim their guns at people rushing towards them from the stage, clad in black and armed. She fired off rounds from twin pistols, and some of the criminals dropped immediately, having been hit, while Havoc and Breda expended their ammo a little less carefully; they had extra rounds, though.

Falman was panicking, “Oh goodness this is terrifying!”

“Falman, come on! Get it together!” Ed shouted, clapping and trying to go after the puppet’s one good leg, and having to hurriedly handspring away from it, in order to dodge one of the bladed arms.

“Yes! Major Elric, sir!” Responding with a bit of panic, but military still ingrained into his behavior on a ridiculous level.

“I don’t think that was an actual order…” Kain murmured, barely audible above the cacophony.

Mustang realized he needed to do something, because there was only so much that could be done against something formed from bulletproof steel by normal people, or even a chimera. He snapped his fingers again, and his youngest three companions hurriedly backed away in the narrow aisle as far as they could, while flames laced around the puppet, entering through its jaws. He had to carefully control the flames, because if it exploded, the resulting mess would hit him and his subordinates, but he found that he had to back away, because even with a damaged leg, the puppet staggered forward, still burning, until the string connecting it turned black and severed completely, melting at the end. A spark of blue saw the material rapidly withdraw over the railing of the box above them, as the puppet limply crumbled to the ground.

“…He’s somewhere on the upper floor! Hawkeye! Breda and Havoc!” He had to hurry up and find Marionette, because the other soldiers were barely managing with the puppets, much less with human enemies figured in. There were at least four puppets, but Marionette was capable of controlling five, the last they had heard. A real possibility was that he had one with him for personal protection, but he might have mastered controlling more.

“Sir!” They went off towards the front of the theater, where they would have to go and find steps leading up to the nosebleed section; trying to go after their opponent from a lower floor risked collapsing them down onto allies. Mustang actually found that his tendency to take people on dates was useful, if only because he knew where they would be and how to get to them.

They found oppression, when several of the puppets rammed into their opponents, before moving to block his progress. It had to be the second floor, because even though they moved like they were sentient, almost, someone was manipulating the mix of machinery, and would have to be watching to realize where they were going. A brief glance up showed nothing, though, so Mustang could only guess that Ludwig was well-hidden.

A puppet that resembled an enormous, fanged humanoid drew guns at them, and was promptly disarmed by pointed shots from Hawkeye, while Mustang snapped his fingers and focused on severing the string that controlled it. Same as before, it took intense heat and time that saw his group backing away to dodge sharpened claws, before the transmutation of oxygen he had focused on the puppet burned the string enough to sever it. He tried to track the string as it withdrew to the master, only to find that another puppet was peering down over the balcony; a vulture-like humanoid with four arms. It launched itself down from above and landed, joining a matching puppet with differently arranged teeth.

The Colonel growled with frustration, “He’s got extra puppets!” By some miracle, a group of soldiers severed the string of a puppet, only to find a new one charging from above to take its place. He moved to burn the two before him, along with seats, in an effort to clear away more room to move around. One of the puppets fired a shot, and Mustang felt it streak past his ear, before they dropped. Everyone hurriedly navigated around the puppets, while Hawkeye turned to fire alongside the other two soldiers with him at a group of black-clad rebels. Men fell, grasping their legs or hands. Breda and Havoc’s shots were less precise, aiming for the abdomen and torso, which was an easier target.

“How many of these guys were back there!?” Havoc asked.

“Plenty of actors can hide behind a stage in a place like this!” Mustang responded, snapping to disarm a puppet in the distance, before it slaughtered the soldiers facing it. They went through a set of double-doors and into a hallway area. At the same time, he could hear commotion behind him.

“Where are they going!?” He could hear Fullmetal’s shout over the rest; his voice was distinct, after years of listening to it.

“He’s figured out we’re after him, sir,” Hawkeye said, taking advantage of the relative quiet in the theater lobby to reload her guns. Havoc was keeping an eye out while she did this, although it took little time, given her efficiency with the weapons. Cars were pulling up to the theater, now, arranged by dispatchers and Maes to help surround the area and lend assistance with the raid by catching escapee.

“Then we’ll have to force our way through,” Mustang responded, heading for the staircase that led to where Florian Ludwig, former state alchemist, was hiding, now put on the defensive by the quick discovery of his hiding spot. They were immediately greeted at the top of the staircase by a smaller puppet, one that moved on four legs and looked canine, machinery in its jaws giving it rotating, drill-like fangs. The Colonel had already been bitten by a chimera, and knew how much strength the real thing was capable of, and how the light bruising on his leg was merciful.

This puppet was just an unliving shell, so when he snapped his fingers, he did not hesitate to try and burn it away…

Only to find that the fiber did not melt. _Fire retardant_ _thread._

_“Colonel!”_ Hawkeye yelled with urgency as he was forced back by a lunge from the puppet, snapping lethal jaws at him with noises that sounded like a cross between a sawmill and a dentist’s office.

He would have to just blow it apart.

“Get back!” He ordered, _“Now!”_ and held out an arm as everyone retreated back down the stairs. Mustang himself had to back away, as the puppet advanced on him; less coordinated than the ones had been outside, but the person controlling it was a master, enough to do this much blindly and keep the thing walking and moving forward down the steps. Four legs probably meant it balanced better, regardless. He snapped his fingers and hurriedly turned to run down the steps, as he had compressed a large amount of flammable gas into a small space.

There was a loud rattle as scrap metal sailed overhead from the resulting explosion. The stairs, miraculously, did not suffer more than a single caved spot that they could walk around.

A voice spoke, then, smooth like velvet, “High temperatures and explosions, two methods, you’ve used so far. If you are going to use something as flashy as flames, then you must elevate them to the highest possible form; that’s my own personal belief.” Spoken with the same passion as an artist, not necessarily unkind or hostile, but not satisfied with what had been seen, either.

A man appeared, his face hidden behind a brownish-grey metallic mask, covered with delicate whorls and ornamentation around its edges, the same material as the puppets, but more elegant. Dark, glimmering eyes looked at them, and Hawkeye raised her gun, pointing it at him from where he stood on the stares. The man’s hair was long and black, and done up in an elegant bun. He wore a plain white sleeveless shirt smudged with grey from the dust in the theater, black slacks held by a black belt with gunmetal studs, where he withdrew a pistol of his from its holster with his right hand; there was a gleam of brighter silver, where a battered State Alchemist watch was still clipped to his side. A bundle of strings were held in his left hand, sparking blue from a transmutation, tied around his palm. That arm was tattooed with alchemic symbols in indigo ink, and his other arm was decorated with purely ornamental ink in the same shade, with the masks of tragedy and comedy, but more elaborate, like what one would find at a masquerade. They stood out brightly against ghostly pale skin.

The man looked at Hawkeye, and stepped aside. A coiling thing went before him, a metallic centipede with snipping mandibles, blocking a precise shot that would have felled him, a movement in anticipation. Mustang could make out, now, how his fingers tightened on the bundle of fibers connecting the puppets, and how they slithered unnaturally from the transmutation, almost alive.

There was a drilling sound and the centipede charged.

“Not so fast!” Mustang raised his hand to snap his fingers, when a sharp claw snapped forward, and shooting pain went up his arm, sending him stumbling back.

“Chief!” Havoc ran up and grabbed him around the shoulders and swore. “Shredded glove, not good!” Hawkeye could not pull the trigger with a metal structure in front of her, or the ricochet would be too hazardous. Indeed, the gloved hand Mustang had been using was shredded, plus a shallow cut that still ran down his arm, more painful than it was serious. They had been pushed to the bottom of the stairs, and the puppet continued to advance. Another followed, bear-like in form, with a crocodile maw and more drill-like teeth. These puppets were far more animalistic in appearance. Another vulture-like one with its second pair of arms twisted behind its back, hidden from view.

“Just give it up, Ludwig! We have the whole building surrounded,” Mustang warned; he still had a working glove on his other hand, and raised it in a threatening gesture.

…And then water was tossed at him, from the vulture one, the second pair of limbs now raised above its head, revealing that it was holding a large jar. It drenched his hair, uniform, and gloves, and hit the people around him partly, as well.

There was a brief glint of something like amusement, “You have an easy weakness to exploit, Colonel. You should really have a backup plan.” The puppets drove them back and formed a protective wall. Two more puppets came down the stairs, bringing the total to five as Florian descended them, shielding him from Mustang and his soldiers, and any hope of easily putting a bullet in the rogue alchemist.

There was a crash behind them as the doors from the main auditorium opened, and an enemy rebel entered, “Mr. Ludwig! We need to get out of here, the tables were-” He was not able to finish his sentence, when words gave way to a cry of pain as he sank down clutching his thigh, where Breda had aimed a bullet his way. He swore in a shrill, almost tearful sort of way, “They enlisted a _kid!”_ He wailed, “I didn’t sign up for this revolution to fight a kid!”

Mustang saw the eyes behind Florian’s mask narrow, as Havoc yanked the gun away from the rebel, and Breda punched him in the face, knocking him out. Hawkeye kept her pistols trained forward, prepared to fire if she had even the slightest opening. “A child soldier is still a soldier, at the end of the day. Showing mercy is a terrible idea, but…it’s funny, isn’t it? Innocent civilians and even children could die if they bombed the train station, yet it’s only when they see someone young right in front of them, they cannot stand it.”

A small window to negotiate, being given to him, because Florian was in control, but it sounded like the soldiers were winning, now, without his presence. If he stalled, then they could turn the fight in their favor. “Yeah, something I don’t understand,” Mustang responded, forcing his voice to stay dignified, even though his heart was racing with fear, knowing that he could be killed if he was not careful, “Why are you helping? Don’t you love kids? Weren’t you a performer, before you got the title? Why kill them now?” They backed slowly away, and Florian and his puppets would advance.

“…I saw something I couldn’t accept…the death, the experiments_…”_ There was something searching in his eyes, and Mustang could only reflect back on what he had been told by Bunny, years ago. That awareness was what Florian had been looking for, and his eyes narrowed faintly. “You_ know_,” Something bitter, but filled with realization, “Somehow, you know the darkest secrets of this country, yet you can still bring yourself to serve it. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Colonel, what’s he talking about?” Havoc asked. Mustang had not told his men anything, because their primary role was not investigation. As far as they were concerned, Bunny’s transmutation had been an isolated case; not inspired by something the military itself had sanctioned.

Mustang gritted his teeth, and pulled his standard-issue military pistol from its holster—he never usually saw a reason to draw it, and sometimes he managed to forget he even had one, when he could usually just snap his fingers. “Something I intend to change,” He answered, “Because I can’t accept it, either.”

“How many more will suffer in that time frame?” The centipede lunged, and Breda yelped as he staggered back, a cut on his forearm tearing through his uniform. There had been no warning in Florian’s tone to indicate that he had been prepared to attack, as he held up the gun in his right hand. The puppets, in unison, raised their claws, or bared fangs at them. “How many years does it take before you stop them?”

A tiger-like puppet went around the metallic barrier and stalked towards them, and immediately began moving faster, _running_, and Mustang felt a sharp pull on the back of his uniform as Havoc grabbed him and hastily yanked him out of the way, “Okay talk over!” He said frantically. Hawkeye fired a shot, and there was a high-pitched pinging noise, as a hinge on the tiger’s jaw broke; the teeth in its mouth stopped rotating, but even so, it lunged and missed them narrowly with a swipe of its claws.

Mustang could only think as everyone turned to run, as their attacker had recommended, that it was pathetic, how quickly the tables had been turned on him, but at the same time, the Marionette Alchemist was focused solely on him, Hawkeye, Havoc, and Breda, and that kept all the other soldiers safe. Florian Ludwig was more of a threat to a large group of average soldier who were unable to target him, versus a small number that were in the same place that he had to actively guard against.

They all nearly fell as they crashed into another, much smaller figure when they tried to go back into the auditorium, Fullmetal charging in suddenly, and ramming into Havoc hard enough to knock the wind out of him, “Hey! Watch it Havoc! I could’ve cut you!” His coat had been torn, revealing gleaming automail up to his elbow, which had the plate on its forearm transmuted into a blade. His eyes went wide and he slashed out with it, deflecting the tiger puppet’s claws when the enemy tried to take advantage of his momentary distraction.

“…So this is the one my allies don’t want to attack…he seems capable enough.” There was nothing mocking in Florian’s tone, which came almost as a bit of a surprise to Mustang. At the same time, though, he had mentioned showing mercy would be harmful. He spoke at the same time that Bunny and Alphonse came charging after him, followed by Fuery and Falman, the latter looking ghostly pale and still trembling, but steadier than he had been at the beginning.

“Fullmetal! I told you to focus on the other rebels!” Mustang snapped.

“We’ve got ‘em already,” his subordinate replied flippantly, “Plus, you’re drenched, and you’re useless like that, so I think you need my-” He was interrupted by Mustang’s boiling temper.

“I’m not _useless!_ It’s not my fault he kept a jar of water!”

“Well Bunny was freaking out! Deal with it! She smelled _blood_, Colonel, and there isn’t much she can do against metal!”

The two proceeded to bicker, and the others in the room, including Florian, quietly watched; nobody was able to fully view their enemy’s face behind his mask, but there was a faint narrowing of one eye that suggested he was raising a brow. There was an abrupt narrowing of both soon after, as the centipede swung its tail end around low to the ground, forcing several people to stumble back, but catching Fullmetal’s leg and knocking him flat, “Ouch! Hey! You might as well give up! The whole raid’s after you!” He snarled as he got to his feet again.

Florian gave a hum, at that, “How about no?” Abruptly, he angled his gun upward, and fired several shots, before letting the spent pistol fall to the ground.

Nothing happened, until an awful cracking sound ensued.

Mustang, _again_, felt himself being grabbed, and he recognized the strength, and the fact that it was teeth sinking into his clothes, rather than a hand, yanking him back. He saw a flicker of blue out of the corner of his eye, like a transmutation. He was too far away for the danger to be an immediate threat to _him_, more so than Hawkeye, who needed to hurry out of the way, and were it not for that fact, he could have imagined it.

What he did not imagine was that his ignition glove was suddenly dry again.

An elegant chandelier fell, shattering and scattering glass, while three of the puppets; the centipede, vulture, and bear, launched themselves at once as they took advantage of the distraction, the strings controlling them severing and rendering them dead hunks of machinery with minor rotating parts. Hawkeye recovered her stance and fired several shots, and there was a pained gasp that indicated that she had hit her mark, as Florian briefly pressed a hand to a bleeding spot on his left shoulder, sinking down to his knees. He had a spot on his right thigh, as well. “Good shot,” He gritted through the pain, as he dipped his fingers into his own blood. The two remaining puppets moved to defend him, and Falman, Breda, and Havoc found themselves pinned beneath the dead constructs, Breda having to hold his arm at an awkward angle to keep the still-working bits of drill-teeth on the bear from injuring him, grasping onto its chin. Kain moved to try and help get them off his companions, and Alphonse did the same.

The next sequence of events happened in a blur.

The Marionette Alchemist hastily began drawing an array on the floor, right as Fullmetal clapped his hands, moving forward towards one of the puppets.

Mustang snapped his fingers, and flames shot out, encircling the one that his subordinate was not targeting. Fullmetal pressed his hands to the legs of a humanoid, merging the plates of its limbs and immobilizing it, and he swung it around—an impressive feat—blocking the shrapnel from the combustion within the tiger. Soon after, he dropped it and went after the enemy alchemist still kneeling on the floor. Florian was forced to stumble away from a half-drawn array made in his own blood, no longer with any puppets, to dodge a vicious kick aimed right at his head. “That leg is automail, I can tell by your footsteps…” He ducked a punch.

The strings in his left hand sparked, and he made a weak tossing motion at the elbow. The fibers lashed out like snakes and wound around Fullmetal’s legs, “What the-!” He fell over, and more fibers moved to wrap around his arms, inhibiting his ability to clap, while his opponent proceeded to ignore him, completing the array. Flames flashed around the former State Alchemist moments later, eliciting a cry of pain as he sustained light burns They were not enough to kill or even scorch his clothing, but they were a warning of worse punishment.

“Surrender! You’re out of puppets and you’re bleeding badly! This won’t end well for you if you keep going!” Mustang listened to uneven, agonized breathing, knowing that the thing that had made this man go rogue was not much different from his own motivations. He truly believed that rebellion, and even atrocities, were the only way to fix the country. Even so, he was going about it wrong; a rebellion was liable to throw Amestris into anarchy, rather than bringing positive change, and now he could pay the ultimate price.

Marionette was quiet, guns from multiple people trained on him, and he glared through the mask as Alphonse rushed over to try and untangle his sibling. Bunny had a low growl in her throat.

“…It won’t end well, anyway.”

A final stroke of blood on the array, and it activated.

A gigantic wall rose from the ground in a flash, at the same time that Fullmetal got a single arm free and tossed something over it that he had dug out of a pocket, before it was complete, blocking Florian from view. “I’ll blast it down! Fullmetal, Alphonse, get clear!” Mustang ordered, before he snapped his fingers, sending a ball of fire to collide with the barrier, while Alphonse shielded his sibling from any debris.

When the dust cleared, the area where the Marionette Alchemist had once been kneeling had been replaced by a crater, leading into the sewers below.

Mustang swore, as people began filing into the room from the auditorium, some bearing wounds, and fussing about how the Colonel and Breda were injured, even though the soldiers performing the checks were injured, themselves. Fullmetal eventually got the tangle off one of his arms enough to clap and transmute the rest of the puppet strings away, but apart from traces of frustration, he was surprisingly…calm, compared to how the Colonel thought he would behave.

Alphonse spoke to his sibling quietly as Fullmetal brushed off the dust from his coat, even though it was currently ruined, “Did you manage to hit him?”

“I think so, but kinda hard to tell with the wall coming up.” He looked at his ruined sleeve, before clapping and transmuting the automail blade back to normal, “Well, guess I need to find more fabric to fix my coats. That’s gonna be a pain…”

“Automail…” Breda murmured, though it was more to himself, not intended for the boys to hear. Mustang knew two of Fullmetal’s limbs were prosthetic, but he was constantly concealing them under clothing, from gloves to long sleeves, and if he were honest, it was sometimes hard to remember, with how naturally he moved. He probably felt ashamed or even exposed when people saw it, and although the military had plenty of amputees, as well as certain areas where conflict had occurred in the past, a good portion of the general public was inclined to stare. Given how sensitive Fullmetal was about his diminutive size, it hardly surprised the Colonel that he would try so hard to hide his automail, as well.

Alphonse looked over at Bunny, “Did we tag him?”

The chimera grimaced and held her hind right foot off the ground. She twisted around and bit into the pad of that paw, and there was a faint whine as she pulled a shard of glass from it, tossing it aside, before setting that foot against the ground again. That must have hurt far more than she indicated, but she walked up to the brothers, leaving a small track of blood on the ground. She sniffed at the edges of the pit, before giving a short bark.

“Well, good…but you just stepped in glass. We’ve got the scent so we could give it to the dog handlers; you’ll get an infection if you go down there.” Alphonse looked at the pit in the ground, “I’m a bit surprised he did that, but I guess we didn’t give him a choice.”

“In another life you two would have been best friends, Bunny; seems like the crowd you would have hung out with…ya know…artistic, but way less murder-y.” Fullmetal commented.

A part of Mustang…actually thought that made sense. The chimera did not just like visual arts, but sculpture and many other things, and regardless of the weaponized nature of his work, Marionette was clearly artistic. He had made proper puppets with bright colors and detailed clothing, once, and undeniably, were they not enemies, the Colonel could see Bunny looking up to the man.

“Well, it’s over now! Is everyone okay?” Maes emerged from seemingly nowhere, no longer manning the radio in the next building over.

“Some injuries, but otherwise fine,” Mustang responded, before focusing on the Elric brothers, “What’s this about tagging?”

“Right, right,” Ed dug into his pockets and withdrew a thin glass vial, like a straw, but Mustang could see that it was capped at the ends. It was designed to be breakable, and there was liquid inside, “Our emergency measures to make sure we could track someone down: anise extract in breakable capsules. I tossed one at ‘em before the wall came up, and it looks like we managed to tag the guy. If you get a dog to look for the smell you can probably track him down but…well I dunno, he was bleeding pretty bad.”

Something a little darker, that did not belong on such young features, appeared on Fullmetal’s face, and then it was gone. He sighed, “Well, what now?”

Maes walked up, “Can I get one of those capsules? We’ll take it from here and have the military police track him down with the scent. You and the others can head back to command; some of you need medical attention.” Fullmetal obligingly placed the glass object into Maes’ waiting palm.

“Careful, it’ll break if you put too much pressure on it.”

“Will do,”

At this point, a soldier with a first-aid kit came in from outside and began bandaging people’s injuries, and Mustang knew they would have a long evening of discussions, medical checks, and questions, before everyone could eventually go home and rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, is Florian going to get caught, or will he play a more major role in the story?
> 
> Back to the scripts!
> 
> (At East Command)
> 
> Mustang: Bunny, did you do something to dry out my glove?
> 
> Bunny: Perhaps...
> 
> (Epic stare down ensues)


	20. The Marks of a Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People deal with the aftermath of the raid on the rebel base, and find themselves having more questions than answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit slow, but a lot easier to read than some of the previous ones. Once again, writing Mustang is a struggle. It will be that way until relationships develop enough that dialogue happens more easily between characters, but for now, people feel a bizarre mix of fondness combined with negative emotions. It is a genuinely complex way to view an individual.
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter, due to the length of previous ones, but it still stays within a general range I demand for the story.
> 
> The dog handlers and their canine partners appear to lend a hand!

Getting back into the office at East Command proved chaotic, but the mood was far less positive than it could have been, knowing that at least five soldiers had been declared dead at the scene of the raid on the rebel faction, and twelve more were injured, some critically. The majority of the deceased were victims of the Marionette Alchemist’s initial ambush, his puppets having deliberately aimed for the neck. Most of the survivors were gunshot victims, save for those who went against one particularly strong insurgent who had some sort of martial arts training; those were stab wounds. The tear on Edward’s right sleeve was because he had engaged that particular opponent in combat. He got a good few hits in, while Alphonse eventually punched the man hard enough in the face to knock him out.

Bunny, meanwhile, had beaten several people through sheer physical might and intimidation, and the process was sped up with Kain and Falman’s assistance, warning her about guns pointed in her direction, and firing at people who tried to target the chimera, or anyone else in their group. The initial advantage in the fight had belonged to the rebels, who had apparently gained a sympathizer in East Command, and had thus known about the raid before it began. The moment Florian’s puppets were removed from the fight, however, their defenses crumbled. A few military police immediately set out to arrest the corrupt officer who had spilled their plans.

Florian Ludwig himself remained at large, but was unlikely to pose a serious threat, given the extent of his injuries. He looked as though he were bleeding badly and had been tagged with a strong scent that a regular dog would track easily. The odds of him of treating his injuries and evading capture, though, were probably greater than everyone gave him credit for, if the chimera were honest. A person as creative as the rogue alchemist was able to bind Ed with strings to keep him from clapping, and use a chandelier not only as a distraction, but as a means of scattering broken glass everywhere that would prevent Bunny from pursuing him. He used his own blood as ink to draw an array.

That same person had seen Bunny use her water array to dry out Mustang’s ignition glove, realized in that moment that she was a _human chimera_, and had said nothing. She did not say anything about it, at first, but she soon realized that nobody had even noticed apart from Bunny herself. Hawkeye had been concerned with moving away from the chandelier, Mustang had been distracted by the chimera grabbing him, and most of the other people present would not have any idea what the expressions in a person’s eyes alone meant. Bunny _knew_ he knew, because the surprise she saw lacked the horror that seemed to flicker across people’s features, when they realized that humans could be meshed with animals.

Yet, he never said a word about what she was, never assumed anything or confronted Mustang or anyone else, about why Bunny was there or what had happened. Against her better judgement, she felt a glimmer of respect. She weighed, initially, the prospect of telling people, but after deciding that would only cause panic, she decided that she would limit disclosure to Ed and Al, Mustang, and Hughes, whenever he got back from trying to work with the military police. It was too late for them to do anything, now. Florian already knew.

While the uninjured soldiers were situated to go and fill out reports on the raid, the chimera observed how much pain the injured ones were experiencing, having been unable to get away from strangers due to the sudden flurry of activity until recently. Mustang and Breda were both wincing whenever a movement tugged or pulled, the Colonel having a slash running from the first knuckle of his inner right thumb all the way to the middle of his forearm, and Breda bearing a cut running across the center of the back of his left. Mustang’s was overall more severe, given the length of the injury and the fact that it was partly on his hand.

She did not understand why their first stop was not the infirmary, but since their bandages had stopped the bleeding, the chimera chalked it up to bravado. The fact that Mustang was their commanding officer, and could be almost as bullheaded and stubborn as Edward, at times, lent itself to the idea that, while he was not necessarily neglecting his health overall, he was capable of making stupid decisions. It was a bit fascinating, considering she never took him for an idiot, though he certainly seemed like one right now. She caught Hawkeye sending the two soldiers glances every so often, and Bunny suspected she was contemplating saying something She caught the Lieutenant’s gaze, and with one hand, tapped a claw against her collar, nodding at the injured soldiers.

“Sir,” Hawkeye spoke, interrupting whatever Mustang was doing at his desk, after he winced trying to lift a pen with a bandaged thumb, “I believe you and Second Lieutenant Breda need to go to the infirmary and receive proper stitches.”

“I only have a few papers left to sign.”

“Very well,” Hawkeye waited for him to think he had easily won the debate, before speaking after a_ beautifully_ timed pause, “Bunny, would you please?”

The man tensed, as the chimera spoke, “I’ll deal with Mustang’s injury, if Al will get Breda. They won’t even need stitches, since we can seal the cuts using alchemy.” She had already started over to his desk, intent on not letting him wait to receive treatment. Bunny already had to put up with Edward not wanting to go to the hospital, or trying to dismiss his injuries; she did not need his commanding officer doing the exact same thing and setting a bad example. Wounds were wounds, regardless of how strong the person was.

A flicker of irritation passed over the Colonel’s features, but he did not protest, “I’m surprised you’re offering to help me, considering I know your array.”

“It’s on your dominant hand, and you rely on it for writing and your alchemy; too high-risk to afford mistakes. Heal it wrong and you’ll feel the scar.” Bunny held out one of her own hands in a nonverbal gesture indicating she wanted him to let her see his bandaged arm, tucked under a ruined uniform jacket with a huge slit down the side of the sleeve. The bandage made it hard for him to move his thumb and was heavily wrapped, in spite of it being a field dressing. She could see him quietly analyzing the situation, looking at his own injured right hand, and Bunny’s, something she had actively trained to function normally, but still limited compared to a normal human’s. Blunted digits too short for a person, and long only by dog standards, with a flexible dewclaw-turned-thumb. Chimera paws tipped with sharp nails the length of human fingers, themselves.

Mustang sighed and held out his arm, and the chimera wordlessly took it, gently unwrapping the bandage to take a look at the injury. The application of a topical antibiotic seemingly kept it from getting worse, but the edges were regardless angry and red, in spite of the actual slash being clean, thanks to the sharpness of the blades Marionette had used. While a part of her wanted to think of the last time she had healed a cut on someone’s arm, she also thought about how she was able to help people that actually meant something. That had been the whole point of why she had developed the array, so she would never see someone she valued bleed out while she helplessly watched. She had grudgingly sacrificed her energy for a person that had tried to kill her, but it was different with people like the Colonel.

Mustang…she thought if he died, she would probably be sad. Unlike so many nameless strangers and enemies, he and his staff meant something to her. She should still be furious with him, but she found herself struggling to maintain a state of anger—though she would still make him pay out of principle. Roy Mustang was painfully human, for a person who was painted as some incredible war hero, or who was considered nothing more than a tool for the military. Looking at his injury, she could make out old scars, where he had probably burned himself learning to control his flames. They were slightly rougher than normal skin and a bit more reflective, but otherwise, they had healed well, lacking the usual expected rosy tint that would have stood out horribly against his paler complexion.

The chimera assessed his injury’s depth, and the familiar array filtered through her collar, sparking across her grip and onto the wound, a harmless blue static that looked more dangerous than it really was. She began with the skin between his finger and thumb, going slowly to make sure nothing was botched, and the injury stitched itself together, scar tissue, manipulated as it healed, filling the gaps. It laced down his hand, and when she got past the carpals of the wrist, she stopped going all the way, only working to make it shallower, before allowing the light to die down. Left behind was a pale scar, white in the center with slightly pink edges, but flush with the surrounding skin. The rest of the injury remained, though less deep, as Bunny released Mustang’s arm.

It was tiring for her to do that much, but she would not permit a _hand_, of all things, to be healed wrong on her watch, and she had a feeling even with her help Mustang would put off either using the array himself, or getting stitches.

Mustang experimentally moved his thumb around, perhaps waiting to feel the scar pull or otherwise hurt, before looking at the still-existing slash, now just a bit shorter. He blinked slowly, in that way that suggested he was perplexed. She had not healed him fully. “As you said, you know my array. It probably doesn’t need stitches now, but I wouldn’t put off treating that for very long.” She had not felt any exhaustion healing the tiny nicks Ed had given himself on his upper lip, but the slash on the Colonel’s arm was far more serious. It was larger, deeper, and demanded far more care and attention to make sure it healed _right_. Her frame sagged from the expense of energy.

She contemplated, briefly, how to communicate with only a small number of people, before settling on hidden meanings, knowing she had an opportunity. She looked Mustang in the eye when she added a final statement, “We need to be careful if we ever run into that Marionette guy as a threat again, he’s extremely _observant_.” The word was hardly stressed at all near the end, and the statement sounded more like she might be subtly picking at him, but she caught a flicker of recognition in the Colonel’s eyes, and he gave a barely perceptible nod to indicate he had gotten the message. Good. No sense throwing the office into disarray. She would tell the boys later when they returned to their dorm.

“That’s freaky to watch…” Havoc murmured, “I mean it’s cool, but my brain just isn’t believing it.”

“It’s useful, but it’s not really pleasant to work with.” Bunny responded, before walking over to where Ed had commandeered a table against one wall to fill out his own summary of events, and slumping down on the floor next to him. He gave her a brief glance, brows furrowed, before returning to his work. As long as the chimera was not in immediate danger of fainting, there was no reason to worry. She was mostly exhausted.

Al was busy carefully tracing out an array on Breda’s hand with a pen, going slowly, due to the fact that a pen could hurt if you pressed too hard into a person’s skin. A person’s hands were more sensitive than other parts of the body, but because closing your palm into a fist tightened the skin and made it less likely to move or shift along the back of the hand, it was relatively easy to put arrays there. The chimera knew some alchemists put tattoos on their arms, but a good number of them chose their palms or the back of their hands for inking, probably due to the lower risk of something going wrong. She thought they might have known a very good tattoo artist with steady hands who knew how to do lettering, but it was also possible they had done it themselves. Her main thought was that she did not want to know how painful it had been to get something done on the palm.

When the array was finished, Al touched a leather gauntlet to the array, and it sparked blue, the cut across Breda’s arm sealing shut at a slower pace than what Bunny had performed—the chimera was the most experienced with her own array, though Al and Ed both were proving themselves to be capable. Their primary difference was that Alphonse was liable to be nicer to his patient, while Edward would treat them, but was otherwise indifferent. Neither was really better than the other at the actual transmutation, though people would prefer the younger sibling, due to him being more sociable.

When the transmutation had finished, the array remained. “If you get a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol on it, it’s easier to get ink off your hand…I wouldn’t recommend doing that around Bunny, though. She doesn’t like the smell,” Al told Breda.

“Way too strong,” The chimera murmured in response, “Makes me feel like I can’t breathe.”

Ed frowned at his work, “I hate summaries. Al, Bunny, was there anything you saw that I missed that should be in this?”

“Well…” Alphonse began, “Backstage, at one of those makeup counters, I think I saw some letters, but I didn’t really have time to look at them, because of all the fighting. The Lieutenant Colonel might find them, though…”

Bunny hummed, before offering, “I _think_ I found crates of explosives, but that’s the first time I’ve smelled that, so it’s a guess. Acetone, something acidic mixed in…it smelled suspicious and these guys were planning to bomb some stuff…so…”

“Dynamite, probably,” Ed murmured, “Nitroglycerin has to be stabilized, since it’s pretty volatile. I’ll say you were freaking out over the crates, but it wasn’t an alert.” He began writing some things down. He could get away with putting Al’s information down, but usually had to frame whatever Bunny found in terms of an ‘alert’ on a scent, due to the fact that she was not supposed to be capable of verbally explaining things. The question was why the chimera could alert on a smell she was not known to recognize. Perhaps people would be suspicious and idly wonder when Fullmetal had trained his dog on explosives, but the idea was to prevent anyone from thinking he had done something illegal. Scrutiny was very bad when it was from someone other than the Colonel.

“Oh, good, I can add bomb detection to my list of credentials.” The chimera spoke cheerfully, though it was forced, and slightly sarcastic. She did not like the fact that explosives were in the hands of violent insurgents, and there had been a _lot_ of crates.

“Wait,” Breda frowned, “You mean you didn’t know how to do it before?”

“I’m not a police dog, and there are regulations surrounding things like narcotics and explosives. It’s easy for me or the boys to learn respective search-and-rescue things, but the really bad stuff, not so much. There are a lot of restrictions on what can be done since I’m considered a pet. It’s like that, in spite of the fact that I’m taken on missions and do similar work. Ed and Al could probably transmute everything, but that’s very illegal and not something you want to get involved with.” If Mustang was silently judging that statement, she quietly ignored it.

“Why didn’t you become a formal one?” Kain asked.

“Bad call,” Ed responded, “There’s regular checks on police dogs, the last thing we need happening is someone trying to run a blood test.” He did not pause in his writing.

“So you don’t go to a doctor?” Falman asked, looking at the chimera.

“I have a doctor, and I get regular exams and vaccines, but getting medical help from strangers is dangerous.” The Rockbells did not advertise their business as a veterinary hospital; they primarily dealt with automail, but they knew enough about treating animals that Pinako had constructed an automail leg for Den. They had taken on the responsibility of all Bunny’s medical needs, to prevent her from coming into contact with a professional who might reveal her secret.

Edward set down his pen, “That should be enough for the report, they only need a short summary, for a change,” He stapled the papers and got up from his borrowed chair, walking over and tossing them onto the Colonel’s desk, “Unless there’s anything else you want, we’re out of here.” He said.

“For the moment, I have nothing, but I should have a new mission for you by Friday, so make sure you stop by for the briefing.” So the day after tomorrow.

“Alright then,” Ed turned to leave, “Come on, Al, Bunny, we’re going.”

When they were safely back inside the dorm, Bunny spoke, “That Marionette guy saw me use my array.”

“He _what!?”_ Edward’s voice took on a shrieking note, and he was hurriedly hushed by Alphonse, whose shushing noises somehow managed to seem panicked, even though his intention was to prevent commotion that would warrant complaints. The chances that Ed would still raise his voice were high, but in the dorms, people would be more inclined to think it was a private squabble between the brothers, versus something more serious. Central Command soldiers were still running around, and they were unfamiliar people. They were not used to the fact that the youngest State Alchemist in Amestris was prone to throwing tantrums or otherwise reacting to things in an extreme fashion.

When Al managed to settle his brother, he spoke, “That’s not good, Bunny…” He was worried.

“It’s not, but there isn’t much that can be done about it now. I passed a hint to Mustang, so hopefully he’s figured it out, but I wanted to wait until we got here before I said anything.”

Ed was displeased, “Why’d you tell the _Colonel_, Bunny? He invaded your privacy and he holds everything over our heads. Why do you trust him? It would have been better if we had just told the Lieutenant Colonel.” The brothers generally trusted Maes Hughes far more than they trusted Roy Mustang; the former was a doting parent who cherished his family, and more notably, seemed to make an effort to include the three in it. To be fair, though, both men were guilty of invading her privacy, and Hughes was the one who, as an investigator, had more access to resources to actually carry out that task. She knew that she and the brothers were biased. Hughes went out of his way to build a relationship that went a little beyond military ties, so he was forgiven far more easily. Mustang, given his motives were sometimes unclear, and his not-so-stellar treatment of Edward, received a far less generous assessment.

“Those two are friends, so whether I told Mustang or Hughes first, the other would probably find out. More importantly, that man knows my secret…but…I don’t think he wants to tell anyone. He’s seen a human chimera somewhere before, there was recognition…and…that would explain a lot about why he refused to surrender, or even why he was there, working with traitors.”

“…There are other human chimeras…?” Alphonse’s question rang in the air. The energy of the room shifted.

For a while, she stood there, mind working, trying to figure out what to say, but Ed saved her with his own choice of words, “It’s the military, isn’t it?” He asked, “They’re…taking people, and making human chimeras, like super-soldiers…that’s why Marionette knows…” She held her breath, until he spoke again, “…Were you one of them…?”

“…No…it was some lunatic who took me…but…he told me about them…I cried the first time I talked about it, because I told Mustang, Hughes, and Hawkeye. It wasn’t about trying to face what happened to me, back then…it was…a precaution.”

“It’s a deep secret, and you keep saying Amestris really likes warfare. Even then, people would be pretty upset if they found out citizens were getting sent to labs,” His brow furrowed, “People getting sent to _labs_, and it’s not some crazy person, it’s the _government_…” It had become rare since the chimera had joined the brothers, but in that moment, Ed swore, and nobody said anything about it, because if there was ever a situation for it, that was now. “Does the Führer know about this? Like I was right in front of that guy, and he’s been…_approving_ people getting their lives messed up?”

Bunny sighed, “I don’t know for certain, but I’d be shocked if he didn’t have some awareness of it. He’s the highest-ranking military official in our country, as well as its leader. Someone at the very top, like him, should know. There might be lower-ranking officers, but I think the biggest people to suspect are the brass. People lower on the food chain are probably keeping silent because it’s too dangerous. This is the kind of secret that gets people killed.” She broke from the topic, “Ed, can you treat my foot?”

He jolted slightly, “Yeah…right, I still haven’t healed it yet…” He walked over and knelt down, and she allowed him to lift the injured foot off the ground using her ankle. He started unwrapping the bandages so he could access the wound site, and after a moment, began speaking again, “I guess given the fact that they went digging through your records, it was a good thing you told those guys about that secret. If they’d been careless, they probably would have been in trouble.”

He tapped Bunny’s ankle once he got the bandages off, “Hold your leg like this for a moment, kay?” He let go and clapped his hands, before returning his hold. The healing array produced an unusual physical sensation when it was working. It felt like something warm had been put over the injury, and it usually had a tingling, itching sensation that went deep into the limb. It was very similar to how tense muscles felt when they finally relaxed, and circulation was brought to the surface. It was drastically different from the pins-and-needles sensation when circulation was cut off, completely. It was actually a sensation that could be seen as pleasant, ignoring the compulsion to scratch. “Alright, you should be fine now.” He told her.

Bunny carefully set her foot on the floor and felt no pain, “Thanks,” She said, before going back to the main issue, turning to look at Ed, “I think I made the right decision. Recent events, like you said, are just proof of that. More importantly, you and Al,” She looked over at the younger sibling as she spoke, too, “Even if you think someone knows about this, you can’t confront them over it. It’ll only put us at risk, and people will wonder how you found out. It won’t just directly affect one person, it’ll cast suspicion on anyone around you.”

Al shifted in the chair, “Then how is this ever going to get better?” He asked.

Bunny sighed, “One of two ways, the first, basically a rebellion becomes strong enough to overwhelm the military and take over. The second is new leadership that disagrees with whatever program is in place. It’s not something you can talk about in public, neither one, because whispers of rebellion are dangerous, and speaking against the top brass or even the Führer is akin to treason.”

Ed huffed as he began undoing the buckles on Bunny’s vest, a silent agreement that things were winding down and everyone would be turning in for the night, soon. “Well both of those sound like they’d take forever, and if bombing civilian areas is what a rebellion has to do, I think I prefer the second option.”

She sighed, “What we want in life is pretty simple, but how things _are_ couldn’t be more complicated.”

The silence that followed could only be interpreted as agreement.

Hughes found himself mentally overlapping the dog handlers of East Command with the Elric brothers, and their unique method of reading Bunny’s body language and nonverbal sounds. He had worked with plenty of teams in the past during investigation work, but if he could describe the dynamics of the officers that specialized with handling canines, they were overall more relaxed than the ones in Central. Although they worked effectively and just as hard, they were far less grim about the whole situation, in spite of immediately being greeted with a trail of blood once they entered the sewers beneath the abandoned theater. Something that the Lieutenant Colonel was grateful for, was that the general district had been abandoned long enough ago, that the sewers were nearly free of any sort of waste. It meant he would easily manage getting whatever lingering stench that remained out of his uniform once the investigation was over. He did not want to risk offending his wife or daughters by coming home smelling of sewage.

“Come on, Missie, find the bad guy!” Koolhoven cooed at his animal companion, who, like the rest of the dogs, interpreted her entire profession as if it were an extremely fun game. Mystic, who _absolutely _wanted to find the bad guy, wagged her tail and made high-pitched whines, occasionally giving yips that told exactly how excited she was. The Amestrian Shepherd was at the lead of the four teams, being the best scent tracker, with the rest trailing behind. Ranger and his handler were lingering close behind, the Rottweiler being the strongest at apprehending suspects. They did not have to scatter to look to see where Florian Ludwig had gone, because there were odd droplets of blood that told exactly where he had gone. The dogs were a precaution to ensure he did not somehow staunch the flow.

Hughes was honestly a bit concerned, though, that they would find a dead man at the end of the trail, versus a living human being.

That was until they rounded a corner and came face-to-face with several things at once. First, tire tracks on the ground that indicated that someone had actually managed to get a vehicle, of all things, into the sewers. Second, these tracks went directly into a wall, bearing transmutation marks. Officer Morane stared at it, and Ranger sniffed at the wall and gave her a visibly frustrated look, whining. “I don’t think anyone is getting the bad guy.” She was cut off from further statements by a particularly loud, growling whine from her dog. She knelt down and scratched him behind the ear, “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” She reassured her companion, still grumbling with disappointment. It was difficult to view the most aggressive dog breed out of the group as scary.

Dassault sighed as Bard sat back on his haunches, the Optain Malanois giving a growl that sounded particularly foul-tempered, more easily reflecting how the humans felt than the other dogs. The behavioral shift was rather abrupt, going from joyful to irritated the moment the dog registered the scent led straight to a barrier he could not pass. His handler looked at him, “Yeah, you’re not happy, huh?” An annoyed huff was what she received in reply.

Nieuport’s dog, Paladin, meanwhile, was inspecting the entire wall, trying to see if he could find a way around it, and then looking back at his handler as if she would know some way of getting around it, not yet having given up. “I don’t know, Pallie…” She told him, “I’m not an alchemist…we should’ve brought Major Elric with us, or his brother. They could’ve gotten the wall out of the way.” The most optimistic dog did not seem disheartened, as he put his front paws onto the wall, sniffing it.

Koolhoven sighed, “Well, this complicates things. A good tracking dog is hard to avoid once it has your scent, but this? Doesn’t matter how good our partners are at following the smell if we can’t get to the fugitive…plus he might be really far away by this point. How’d they get a car down here anyway?”

Nieuport looked at her teammate, “You think maybe they knew this kind of thing could happen, and had a getaway vehicle down here the whole time?”

Dassault rubbed Bard’s shoulder, “Seems that way…looks like our guy was bleeding pretty bad, though. It’s possible he’s been dragged to a hospital or something.”

“This complicates things,” Hughes said, looking at the transmutation marks on the wall, “Not a lot of people know what the Marionette looks like without his mask, and our best photos are several years old. Even if we circulate his description the chances of someone identifying him are low. We’re dealing with a person who did costume design. He can disguise himself a lot better than some everyday criminal, and with alchemy, he could change his clothes or even his hair without going to a salon or store.”

Dassault looked over at Hughes, “You guys said this was a really organized mission by some new cell, right? What was it? The Swallow’s Song?”

It was such a pleasant-sounding name for a group that was stopped before it could attempt to bomb places like grocery stores, train stations, and even areas near East Command. They had sprung up suddenly without warning, but they were far more organized and direct than Hughes had first thought, to have backup waiting for an escape that largely would have involved alchemy. It seemed like they were willing to sacrifice weaker fighters, but they were not so willing to give up important members of their cause like an ex State-Alchemist.

“Yeah, fitting name, huh?” Hughes let his feelings show on his face.

“Well, at least they’re creative,” She shrugged, “At any rate, if they had something like this planned, they might have support workers like doctors and even entire bases we don’t know about. It wouldn’t surprise me if they didn’t even take him to a hospital at all.”

Hughes had to admit that her words had weight, but he did not like thinking about it in the slightest. “This is the first terrorist cell we’ve had in ages that’s gotten far enough that a single major raid isn’t enough to stop them. With all their former military members, they know how to get around a lot of our checks. Normally we would have caught these guys sooner.” He brushed his hands up against the wall, before sighing, “Well, looks like we lost ‘em. We’ll have to report back to East Command, unless there’s anything else you think is worth noting-” like magic, he was cut off.

“Lieutenant Colonel! look at this,” Nieuport was trying to reach something at the top of the wall, before giving a frustrated groan, “It’s a _hint_ and I’m not able to reach. It’s pinned between the ceiling and the wall, like they dropped it.”

Dassault walked up next to her and stared at it, “Growing up in the country…I’d say…that’s either a hawk, a buzzard, or an eagle-owl…can’t tell exactly which one, at this distance.”

Hughes followed their gazes, and saw what they were discussing: a brown feather with darker bands, half-way crushed by the wall, and easy to miss. “Why would someone bring that down here?” He mused aloud.

Nieuport blew a puff of air, “Who knows? Whatever it was, I know it wasn’t nesting down here, so it’s gotta be from those guys.”

“Good job, finding it…though now we have to get it down.”

“Guys, let me try,” Morane gently shoved the others out of the way, “I’ve been vaulting over walls for ages. Hopefully this thing isn’t wedged too tightly. I’ve already got the gloves on so we won’t mess up a scent mark.” She took a deep breath, and jumped as high as she could, managing to brush the tips of the feather. “Okay, I can reach it, just-” She jumped again, “-Hah! Got it!”

The feather was broken in half, but she had one end of it, and she held it out to Dassault, “Which one is it, now?” She asked.

“…Owl, definitely owl.”

Koolhoven frowned, “I repeat, why on earth is an owl feather in a sewer? Better yet, why with terrorists?”

“Some sort of symbolism?” Nieuport suggested, “Except you’d expect an actual swallow’s feather.”

He shrugged, “Eh, works for me, I guess.”

Morane turned and held it out to Hughes, “Do whatever you need, Lieutenant Colonel,” She said, frighteningly casual, for someone in the military speaking to a ranking officer so high up on the ladder, compared to herself. That same aura was exuded by the whole group of handlers, but it was hard to begrudge them for their mannerisms, considering they were a genuine pleasure to work with. Hughes took the feather and pulled out an evidence back he had been carrying in one of his pockets—he normally kept photos of his family in there, but he needed a few things related to work, too—and slid the object inside.

“I’ll be talking this over with some people. Let’s head back for now.”

Why a feather of all things?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think a lot of readers would agree, the dog handlers are just a joy to read, as much as they are fun to write.
> 
> (Back at East Command)
> 
> Mustang: An eagle-owl feather...
> 
> Hawkeye: It's possible, sir...
> 
> Hughes: Okay I've been left out of the loop here. Roy, Hawkeye, what's going on?
> 
> Mustang: Ludwig knows about the chimera labs.
> 
> Hughes: Hold on, just because we found a feather doesn't mean that it's a chimera, especially not a human one.
> 
> Hawkeye: If I may make a suggestion, why don't we get Bunny's input? She can probably tell you if it's abnormal by scent.
> 
> Mustang and Hughes: ...
> 
> Mustang: That is...a brilliant idea, Lieutenant.
> 
> Hawkeye: *Secretly pleased* Thank you, sir.
> 
> (I'd be surprised if you weren't lead to this conclusion on some level)


	21. Brave Only When Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunny is asked about the feather discovered when trying to locate Marionette. Meanwhile, there are far worse things than extremist rebels out there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Casually hurls more of the original plot out the window*
> 
> I was a little lost on how to write this chapter, which is why it took a little longer than usual, but I decided that straying further from the plot is fine, so here you guys go! We do have a new character appearing in the story. Because I like to establish this before your own mental concept of what a person's voice sounds like becomes dominant, his voice sounds like Jeremy Irons...which, if you don't know who that is, it's the guy who voiced Scar from the original animated Lion King movie.
> 
> So yeah, just imagine him talking with the original Scar's voice.

At what Bunny assumed to be five in the morning, the sun had not yet crept up over the horizon in East City, and only a pale blue light illuminated the sky. Slowly, a trace of pink would appear, followed by gold, before the burning orb itself appeared, sharing its warmth with the world. For now, however, with the entire landscape cast in shade, a damp chill hung in the air, and the ground was damp from dew. An insomniac night greeted Bunny after the raid, so she left the dorm she shared with the Elric brothers and roamed the military property, long before daybreak. She had gotten perhaps four hours of sleep. She had skipped wearing her vest, too.

As she always did when she went on these walks, Bunny took a specific route exploring the property in the beginning, sniffing around specific areas and determining who or what had been present. The usual scents were still there; military personnel and pets passing by, mixed with birds that sometimes nested around the warehouses. The combination was familiar, and changed based on location; she had a mental map of the area entirely linked to her olfactory senses. The problem, then, was that since the raid, new scents had appeared, and she felt a territorial sense of agitation.

She did not like the smell of the Central soldiers who were temporarily staying at East Command.

Once she had finished her scan of the area, she took to wandering aimlessly, trying to shake the sense of unease, until familiar scents growing stronger had her moving towards an area not immediately within the sights or earshot of those who guarded the entrance gate, but nearby. They were close enough to the headquarters that she always smelled soldiers, even if they did not live on the property itself, but the scent was usually diluted by distance, somewhat. She could still tell what direction they came from if she focused, but now, they were approaching. Within a certain amount of time waiting behind the corner of a warehouse, there were two sets of footsteps, so she knew that for some reason, Mustang and Hughes were visiting the military dorms, despite the Colonel having his own apartment.

They proceeded down the rows of buildings, and Bunny quietly waited to see whether or not they would even notice her presence. When they got to the intersection next to her respective alley, Mustang was the first to recognize anything, but did not get a chance to look properly before she gave an extremely loud bark, making both men jump. “Bunny!” Hughes exclaimed, startled, “What are you doing out here this early?”

“Not really anything in particular,” She responded, “Agonizing over the invasion of unfamiliar smells in the area. What are _you_ doing here? Coming to drag people out of bed?” She was excellent at forcing a completely normal tone, even if her ears were slightly low on her skull. Ed or Al would have immediately noticed, by comparison.

Hughes coughed to hide a laugh, “Something like that,” He answered, before continuing, “Marionette got away, so they’ll be sending me back to Central today.” He smiled, “I get to see my three favorite girls again!” A note of giddiness entered his voice. Either he was skilled at hiding what he was thinking behind those glasses, or he did not interact enough with canines to completely read whatever unconscious signals of stress Bunny gave off. “I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures for whenever you and the boys come back to visit Central,” He gushed.

Mustang sighed, no doubt thinking he would have to look at each one the next time his friend visited. One of the things people knew, by now, was that Hughes would have no less than eight photos of his wife in the exact same pose, out of the endless multitude that had people wondering if he had modified pockets in his uniform.

“That’s good, I’m sure they’ll be happy to have you back,” Her ear twitched, and she briefly glanced at Mustang, her look calculating, “Who are you looking for? I hope it’s not Ed, he’s not a morning person.”

Hughes gave her a smile, then, that did not quite reach his eyes, the one she could see behind the glare of a reflection in his glasses. “We came looking for you, actually. We found something while we were investigating, and I took a scent sample from it. Normally it would be a completely dead end, but since we have you, it isn’t.”

“So you want me to follow a scent trail?” She asked.

Mustang spoke up, then, “We want you to analyze it. We know you can, after the dynamite crates.” She supposed that meant she had been correct in assuming they were explosives.

She rolled her eyes at the command in his tone, “Well, let’s see it then,” Her tone was resigned, a bit, to working early. Although the brothers would be searching various bookstores today, she did not sleep during those activities, because she was usually forbidden from entering bookstores, and the one library she was allowed to enter was a rare exception. Today would be a not-so-restful one.

Hughes reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny glass tube with a sliver of something brown inside of it, the scent well-removed from the air by an interestingly designed cork. It was an effective way of storing samples, that Bunny could not smell the object inside. He had to wrench the rubber stopper a few times, before it popped free, and the scent immediately hit her nose after.

Something turned to ice in her chest. Of course they had wanted her to tell them what it was.

When she spoke her throat felt numb, “Owl, margay, and human. The former two are popular for stealth-based chimeras, and are mixed with a third animal, usually puma, to make something larger.” Her voice did not catch in her throat, but it wavered. The margay was a small cat that could spend its entire life living in the canopy of a jungle, and it was the best climber among the felines. It could rotate the joints of its ankles and hang upside down using just one foot, in order to reach for something. They moved with the same sort of agility one would expect from a monkey.

“I see…” Hughes wore a thoughtful frown on his face, but she could feel his concern, even if he was suppressing any outward sign. “So he’s working with them. Roy got your message, loud and clear.”

“I’ve told the boys about what the military is doing,” She said. At this Hughes gave a nod, while Mustang, curiously, tightened his hands into white-knuckled fists. It seemed he did not like that she had told the brothers anything, and she could feel a strange mix of disapproval and worry. It was that sort of lump-in-your-throat feeling, if she could describe it. His face remained neutral, and his shoulders were squared as they always were, barely any tells. His hands gave him away. “It was always a possibility we would see something,” She murmured.

“There was no reason to keep them on the case, so this may very well be the only time it happens.” Despite his tone, it felt more like a protest, when Mustang spoke, rather than stating a potential fact.

“I won’t take any chances,” She glanced at where the sun was rising, illuminating the buildings with gold, and painting the sky in a multitude of colors. She returned her focus to the two men, “If there’s nothing else to discuss, I’m going back to the dorms, before the boys start wondering where I’ve gone. The other soldiers will be waking soon.”

“Right,” Hughes responded, “Hey, let Ed and Al know that they should stop by Central. Their birthdays are coming up, right?” She got the feeling he was trying to lighten the mood with the topic. It would surprise no one, if she were disturbed by what she had just learned.

She sighed, but took the escape offered, “You’re looking for guests for Elicia’s birthday party, aren’t you?” Ed and Elicia shared the same birthday, and Hughes and Gracia were the sort to throw enormous parties for their kids; granted, the first party they had been to was a small, private celebration for Edward, and no one else. It had been a surprise when the baby was born in the midst of that, although it had ended well—ignoring the fact that the brothers and Nina were in a complete panic while Gracia crushed the life out of Bunny’s hand.

Hughes grinned widely at her, “That’s right!” The cheer in his voice felt false.

“I’ll let them know. We’ll have to think of some presents.”

“You don’t have to do that_.”_

“No, but I want to,” She told him, “I enjoy giving presents, it’s not something that I get to do very often.”

Mustang suddenly changed his entire demeanor, watching the exchange, “Wait a minute, you expect me to go to a birthday party at the same time as _Elric?” _There was a touch of horror in his voice.

Hughes gave him a look that seemed oddly sharp, “I hope you don’t plan on skipping because of that. My girls are looking forward to seeing their favorite uncle.”

“Perhaps I should visit at a different time…”

The father folded his arms, “Don’t make me hurt you, Roy. If you don’t come, I’ll drag you there.” Bunny quietly contemplated if he could do that, and determined at a bare minimum that he would probably at least attempt to go through with the threat. He had a habit of dragging off people if he could, and the only thing that usually stopped him was a very strong resistance, or his intended victim being too heavy to kidnap.

“I’ll burn you if you try,” Mustang warned, though there was a hint of anxiety in the threat.

“No you won’t,” His friend dismissed.

Bunny cleared her throat, getting their attention, “I’m gonna go if there’s nothing else to talk about.”

“Right,” Hughes responded, “You have a good day, Bunny,”

“You too,” She threw over her shoulder, as she left.

Now how did she tell Ed about Mustang attending the party without causing him to yell?

_…Midday…_

One of the things Breda did not expect to see on his off day was Alphonse and Bunny waiting in the middle of an alleyway, but that seemed to be the case, while Edward was nowhere to be found. Considering the book shop located adjacently, though, he suspected that the two were waiting a bit further away from the main street so they could interact, while the Boss was inside getting something. Most people would not even notice their presence, as fixed forward as their gazes were, but Breda was observant and particularly bored, since his buddy Jean was on yet another date with the latest woman that he had fallen for. He had already forgotten her name. What was it? Veronica? Vanda? Vanna? Something along those lines.

He approached the two in the alleyway, and the chimera was the first to notice him, ears pricking forward, and her whole body tensing, before registering who it was and relaxing. Alphonse followed her gaze, “Breda, what are you doing here?” He asked. It escaped the Second Lieutenant how the younger brother was almost as tall as Armstrong when Ed was so short. Then again, everything about the Elrics, it seemed, was weird. A tall kid wearing a suit of armor, and another that could perform transmutations by just clapping his hands who seemed way too young to have automail. Tossing in Bunny made it worse.

“Not much,” He responded, shoving his hands in his pockets casually, “It’s my off day, figured I’d go for a walk. One of you is missing, though. He in the shop next door?”

Al nodded, “We keep looking for new books relating to bio-alchemy. Hopefully we’ll find something useful…or…brother will. Bookstores don’t like dogs…”

The brothers dealt with field work, but it was rare for them to discuss their research, except that it was related to biology. He was increasingly convinced that their reasons for studying the topic were personal. Edward was missing two limbs, if Marionette’s words during the fight had been true and one of his legs was artificial, too. In all the time the team had known the pair, they had never seen Alphonse’s face; there was some speculation that maybe the armor was more than a hobby, and that it was meant to hide some sort of disfigurement. It looked increasingly likely. Bunny’s healing array seemed to validate the idea that something medical was their end goal.

“Hopefully the Boss finds something, then,” He looked at Bunny, “What about you, how are you doing?”

There was a brief pause where he saw her eyes flicker over to the street behind him, and he realized she was checking to see if it was safe to speak or not. “Fine, just a bit bored.” Her ear twitched, “Any news?”

“You guys were already gone when the MP’s came back. Marionette got away.”

Al nodded, “We know.”

That surprised him, “Wait, when?”

“The Colonel and Hughes came by the dorms really early this morning and told Bunny about it.”

That was…unusual. Why did they specifically go out of their way to tell the three? He would not put it past Hughes to go and pester someone at a ridiculous hour of the morning, but _Colonel Mustang?_ His commanding officer woke up extremely early to head for the office, but hated doing any sort of actual work. He would procrastinate until literally ten to fifteen minutes before a deadline, and rush through signing papers. He was more active during evening hours, and if it was before noon, he was guaranteed to try and take a nap unless Hawkeye was watching him. Sometimes he took naps _anyway_ regardless of the time of day.

So it was beyond strange, that Mustang would go out of his way early in the morning to inform people.

Then it occurred to him, “Wait, Bunny specifically?” He looked at her, “Why?”

“I was out for a walk, and it’s impossible for me to ignore new scents on the property. Or familiar ones that aren’t usually showing up there. I just relayed what they told me.” Her ears raised slightly, “Oh, right, and Hughes invited us to Elicia’s birthday party. That’ll be fun.” It was said without any sarcasm. She was sincerely looking forward to it.

“So his family knows?” He asked.

“Gracia does, but not Nina or Elicia. The kids aren’t capable of keeping a secret, and probably won’t be until they’re eight or nine.”

“So you gotta be silent the whole party?” That did not sound like fun, in Breda’s own opinion.

“Pretty much, but I’m not supposed to speak in most situations, anyway, so it’s not anything new.” It bothered him more than he would say aloud. Bunny acted like being forced to stay silent was normal, and seemed completely fine with it. Realistically she probably _was_ upset, but he saw absolutely zero indication of that, not in her posture, tone, or expression. She was the sort of person who could probably fall apart without anyone noticing, because for her, someone actually _seeing_ anything wrong might have been a threat to safety or survival.

“Still stinks, though,” He voiced the thought aloud.

“Can’t do anything about it, so I’ll just have to deal with it,” She responded. That did not exactly sound like insistence that it was alright with her, so perhaps she was the sort that needed to be prompted correctly, before she would say anything. She probably had plenty of complaints but kept the number low, because a lot of them stemmed from something she could not help.

Footsteps walked up behind them, and he heard Edward’s voice before he actually saw the kid, “Well, I found _one_ book that looks promising,” He then noticed the new arrival, “Breda? What are you doing here?” It was funny how the way the brothers responded to his presence in an unfamiliar setting was the same question, word-for-word.

Breda gave a wave, “Saw Al and Bunny hanging out over here, figured I’d stop and talk a bit.”

“I’m glad you did, I worry about these two waiting around out here by themselves.”

Alphonse shifted on his feet, “Unlike you, brother, we don’t have a bad habit of getting into trouble every time someone turns their back.”

Bunny gave a quiet rumble.

Ed shot the two a glare that had no heat behind it, before turning back to Breda, “So it’s your off day?” He asked.

“Yeah, not much to do unfortunately. I might go and get drinks with Jean later. Normally I’d invite people to come with, but you guys can’t have alcohol.” Jean’s poor luck regarding dating was hardly a secret for anyone in the office, but Breda would not say that going to a bar and the general mood depended on someone’s attempt at romance. His buddy’s criteria for falling in love seemed to revolve around a woman’s physical appearance, and while he could hardly blame someone for preferring people they considered attractive, Jean was far too quick to think his latest sweetheart was ‘the one.’ There were multiple different things that usually went wrong, and then he would be heartbroken afterwards.

Hence Breda treating Jean to drinks, or _being_ treated at the bar, depending on whether the date went well, or horribly wrong. They would either celebrate that things worked out, or he would have to deal with an hour or two of weepy, heartbroken rambling about what Jean had potentially done wrong and why. Breda _needed_ a drink or two to deal with it, because it was hard not to feel annoyed when someone was so torn up over a person who was practically a stranger, especially when it was for the umpteenth time. Alcohol was basically how he avoided strangling his best friend when he was being stupid.

Of course he would never mention all of those details to Ed and Al, because they were still pretty young, and teaching them that alcohol was an effective way to deal with stress was probably a bad idea.

Ed waved a hand dismissively, “It’s fine.” He passed the book he had tucked under his arm to Alphonse, “Well, we’re gonna look around the city some more before places start closing for the day. Come on guys!” He motioned for his companions to follow as he started past Breda to exit the alleyway, Al and Bunny following.

Although nothing in his overall mannerisms had changed, Breda could not help but be surprised at how the reference to his age had not bothered Ed in the slightest. Usually he showed at least a certain amount of irritation when people pointed out that he was too young to drink, but he had been completely unfazed, just then.

It made him think about just how little he really knew the brothers.

_…Midnight…_

The human jaw is often considered to be weak compared to other species. There are many potential explanations for why _Homo sapiens_ would possess a minimal bite force, ranging from a refined diet reducing the need for larger muscles, to even the idea that strength was sacrificed for a larger brain. Most of these assumptions are inaccurate, contrary to popular belief. Human jaws move in three dimensions, rather than two, and are designed to produce force with a bite far more efficiently than similar creatures, reducing stress on a comparatively fragile skull. The proper bite force of a human can be as much as forty percent more powerful than other primates, save for the gibbon, when all muscles are utilized.

What a human jaw _should not_ be capable of, is opening wide enough to fit entire arms, legs, or even _torsos_ inside the owner’s mouth. It _should not_ be capable of crushing bones, as one of the _things_ that had attacked the base had done with a man’s femur. A human should not be capable of following prey for an immense distance via smell alone.

The creatures that had descended upon the temporary base of the Swallow’s Song were monsters, no matter what their appearance suggested. One of them gleefully tore into the faction’s members, _consuming _them, biting grown men in two and proceeding to dine on their flesh, before playfully telling witnesses that he looked forward to eating them. His companion resembled a woman, but her fingers were like blades that would extend out, deadly, akin to swords or lances. When grazed by bullets or knives, their wounds would scarcely bleed, before fizzling with red sparks and sealing shut. Their bodies seemingly defied nature’s laws, too many men disappearing down the male’s throat without ever sating him, spines from the female’s fingers extending with no apparent displacement of mass.

Was it any wonder that before they noticed his presence, Vitale had chosen to run away? A human chimera would never match up to these demons, and he knew—they would kill him without so much as blinking, before the fat one devoured his corpse. He had fled from the area before he was spotted, entered the infirmary, collected the only person whose life he treasured enough to risk his own for, and left.

Now, he stumbled through a dark forest in the middle of the night, carrying a rogue State Alchemist on his back, running as fast as he could until his legs and back trembled with the effort. When he felt like his body would give out, he still did not stop, long after the shaking and burning of his muscles devolved into physical pain. Although his chest ached, his mind was perfectly clear, despite the exhaustion—one of the few, unexpected benefits that he had gained from being part bird. His diaphragm was now a vestigial organ with no function, his breathing regulated by a series of nine air sacs that made his breath flow through his lungs in a circular fashion. He gained oxygen even when he exhaled, the adaptations for flight still there, even if he was bound to the earth.

Wearing clothing was uncomfortable ever since he had become part bird, but the tan cloak he used to hide his body offered some protection from the jostling of his companion’s unconscious form. Florian was unaware of his hands gripping through fabric, painfully tugging at mantle feathers. Were his upper body covered with regular skin, fur, or scales, Vitale would have been fine, but owls were not birds that appreciated being touched.

So instinctively, and physically, he hated carrying his friend, but Florian had not woken up after the imbecile had fainted the previous night from a combination of exhaustion and blood loss. He had gotten a transfusion of the appropriate type and his wounds were well-treated, but even if he was conscious, Vitale would forbid him from running. The injury on his thigh was fresh and could be reopened by accident, and it was too dark for humans to see. It was not even advisable medically to be moving Florian when he had never woken, but he was pretty positive that anyone who stayed in that building was guaranteed to die.

Of course the only reason Vitale would inwardly complain in his thoughts, was because he did not want to admit to how terrified he was. Terrified of those _things_, terrified he was going to be killed because the one creature’s sense of smell would be enough to trump the distance he was trying to put between himself and them (rivers fooled humans, because the footsteps were lost, but if anything, it made tracking via scent easier). He had no idea if these regenerative beings would tire out naturally, or if they would ever give up. He was scared Florian had sustained brain damage or something from the blood loss and would never wake up.

The alchemist was breathing, his pulse was normal and his face was relaxed—Vitale had so generously taken the time to snatch up Florian’s precious mask (He had such a pretty face for a person who never liked people seeing it)—but he had not stirred once, and he silently cursed his friend for resting peacefully while he was busy trying to make sure both of them stayed _alive._

Eventually, though, he had to stop, because he would collapse if he did not, and he just started walking, then. His silhouette still looked like a man, mostly, and his cloak almost fell to the ground, concealing anatomy that was not quite right. Heels that never touched the ground, the legs digitigrade and ending in soft, furry paws like an oversized kitten; feet left bare, each step silent. Unnatural movement gave away the presence of a hidden tail. Tawny brown fur covered in rosettes and bands abruptly shifted at the base of the ribcage into feathers.

It would have been easier to lose a scent-tracker by running towards East City, drowning their own scents amongst the noise of other living things, but that was not a viable option.

Vitale had to wear a mask in public, but it barely helped him, when everything about him drew attention, whether he concealed his form or not. He was not an alchemist and he did not have his own mask on his person when he fled the base, anyway. His head looked almost entirely like an owl’s, human features lost in a freakish transmutation. His large eyes had vertical pupils like a cat, and that was where all resemblance to a feline ended, their color a deep reddish-orange, and fixed in their sockets, thus he had to swivel his entire head in order to look at things. He had ear-tufts, but his actual ears were completely hidden, and asymmetrical on his skull, the reason he could find things via sound.

Even with good clothing and a proper facial covering, he could barely conceal what he was. His movements were too abnormal, and a mask only protected him from disinterested, passing glances. The moment eye contact was made, it was apparent he was not fully human. The way things were in East City, people likely still looking for Florian, it was not safe to go there. The Flame Alchemist and Fullmetal, plus the Hawk’s Eye were there. He could not hope to fight them should conflict arise.

The intense silence in the forest, only interrupted by the sounds of insects and nocturnal creatures, was broken by a shaky exhale and the shifting of fabric as Florian stirred. Vitale tried not to wince when his feathers were painfully tugged through his clothing yet again, and he turned his head to look his friend in the eye—not sidelong, but fully, because that was within the realm of physical possibility for an owl-man. He was irritated, yes, but he was relieved, too. His ear-tufts under his hood lowered slightly from the raised position they had been in, and his pupils stopped wildly dilating and contracting. He did not stop panting, though, because he was admittedly tired, and still very, very stressed, feathers under his throat fluttering, eyes closing slightly.

When the alchemist opened his own eyes and he peered around past a curtain of loose hair, it was clear he could not see, “…Vitale?” He spoke hesitantly, his voice dry. Right, he had been given fluids but had not had anything to drink, so it did nothing for his throat. That was unfortunate, because Vitale did not consider essential supplies when he tried to escape possible death. Florian was probably guessing who was carrying him via touch alone. There was a pained hiss, probably from his wounds being jostled, but the chimera did not smell blood, so they were fine.

For now.

“Grip my feathers any tighter, and you’re going to pluck them out,” Vitale warned, and was immediately rewarded with a loosening of hands; there was not much risk of the owl-man actually dropping Florian unless he _wanted_ to drop him, which for the moment, he did not, at least logically. The alchemist looked slightly like a scolded child, considering that physical contact for Vitale, even with his best friend, seldom occurred. The chimera continued speaking, his tone irate, “I am frustrated_,_ Florian. What good is your idealism when it lacks common sense? You have been asleep for a full day, and you nearly died. I told you to run and save yourself if things took a turn for the worse. You even forgot your chalk, when you knew there was going to be a raid.” A faint tea-kettle whistle followed.

The rogue alchemist gave him a rueful smile, “I’m sorry I keep worrying you.” Florian would have never successfully put up a wall in the sewer, without Vitale waiting down there with a piece of chalk, just in case. The pair had their own little system around chalk, dealing with colors. When Florian used his own chalk to draw arrays separate from the ones tattooed on his left arm, it was in a powder blue color—why use white chalk when there was no inherent difference based on color in the effectiveness of an array? Vitale carried his own stash of chalk, for whenever Florian absent-mindedly forgot his, the chimera’s chalk being a brilliant, fluorescent orange.

Considering that the notorious Marionette was actually quite prone to forgetting his chalk, a disproportionate number of his arrays were orange, including the one used to put up the wall in the sewer.

“You know the only reason I joined Swallow’s Song with you was because you wouldn’t just accept what was going on and walk away. Well, now we _have_ to walk away. I do not think that the organization will last much longer.” He responded flatly, turning his head back to face forward, continuing to walk again.

Fingers tightened on his back, “…What do you mean?” There was alarm, and when he did not immediately respond, Florian tensed even more, “Vitale, what happened?”

“Something worse than chimeras, came when the sun set, tracked us down by smell.”

“We’re running away? You could have stayed and fought, we’re going to abandon our allies, just like that?” For all of his acting skills to make himself look aloof, Florian could be self-sacrificing to a fault, putting his life in danger as if he did not value it, at least in Vitale’s eyes. He had a stubborn sense of loyalty, to the point that he would make himself into a martyr for a cause he deemed worthy, or linger too long during a fight, as he had done during the raid. His cold, distant façade was why enemies were wary of Marionette, but the actual Florian, the _person_, was the reason he was so dearly loved. ‘Mr. Ludwig’ had been adored for his love of the arts and beauty, in general, and his willingness to listen to the troubles of others.

He was never meant to be a soldier, as often as he thought using his heart. Of all the people who lamented the Marionette’s twisting of puppets into weapons of war, nobody hated the change more than the puppeteer himself. Nobody hated wearing a false personality more than Florian, pretending that he was not disgusted by his own actions, and constantly hurting over attacking people who did nothing wrong.

“There was no fighting those things,” The words were followed by another teakettle whistle. “If they can survive being shot through the head, and the flesh simply grows back, what hope do we have against them? You were unconscious, Florian, you didn’t see what I saw. I would not be surprised if the rest of the Swallow Song begins to fall, if they are sending creatures like that. I think we should disappear.”

“A new kind of human weapon…” He murmured, “Where are we?”

“As far away as I can possibly carry us, in an effort to keep them from locating us yet again. I do not know if they can tire naturally, but if we are more persistent, we can lose them simply by putting sufficient distance between ourselves and them.”

“So the middle of nowhere…” Florian sighed, “In the woods? Do you even know how to get back to civilization from here?”

“I can go into the treetops and look for light pollution, and locate roads via sound. I know how to navigate just fine, and if we keep moving in a single direction we are liable to eventually find something. I assure you that those creatures will kill us far faster than anything out here.”

Another sigh, “Fair enough, but what about food and water?”

“You may have to go without food; starting a fire to cook something might give us away. Water, though, there are ways of purifying it. A filter of cloth for cleaning out large foreign substances, and an appropriate amount of bleach to disinfect it so that we catch no diseases. All easily producible with your alchemy.” He answered.

“Where do we go?”

“Not back to East City, if we return there now it would be a death sentence. To another city, perhaps, where our scent will mingle and be lost amongst the population. It is possible to lose a tracker by having so many other living creatures it is no longer easy to tell individuals apart.”

There was a long pause, so long that Vitale, his body screaming with pain from the effort of carrying his friend, thought the conversation was over, until the alchemist spoke, “They had a human chimera with them.”

Vitale stopped walking, his head swiveling to face his companion again, almost dropping him out of shock, before catching himself, “What?” His ear-tufts raised by a large fraction, and he gave a long series of agitated twitters.

“The Fullmetal Alchemist’s dog is a chimera. A chimera who is an _alchemist._ I was almost winning, I had a jar of water and Flame’s gloves were soaked, but then she grabbed him by the coat and I saw an unfamiliar array flash on the collar—just a brief flicker, I couldn’t even get a proper look at it—and then he was snapping away.” A shaky laugh, “I do not think she is with the military formally, but she is working with Flame.”

Vitale did not like the sound of that laugh, “Florian,” He said slowly, “What did you do?”

“I may or may not have alluded to the chimera program…I saw recognition in his eyes. He admitted he knew, though I kept details sparse. Only those who are aware of the experiments would even have any idea of what I was discussing. That was before Fullmetal and his four-legged ally came to his rescue.”

The owl-man hissed, talon-tipped fingers clenching past where his arms were helping to keep Florian’s legs in place, the free one not holding Marionette’s mask, “Did you never stop to consider that he could have been a proper enemy? What if he was _not_ hiding a chimera out of the goodness of his heart? Then we would never be free. They have no reason yet to suspect that one of their escaped failures is with you in particular. They only know there is a rogue alchemist.”

Failures. The military had their own special criteria that determined whether a chimera was a success or a dud, like some sort of product rather than a living thing. Naturally, any creature that could not survive after being transmuted was a failure, but not even chimeras themselves would dispute this; they might be relieved, even, if passing away ended the poor thing’s suffering. Improper organ systems caused excruciating pain, and a chimera was considered irreversible once made.

Beyond the chimeras that died, even ones with stable bodies were divided into failures and successes. To fit the criteria for success, a chimera had to possess social ability on par with a normal human, a humanoid form, and the ability to blend in with civilians without arousing suspicion. Chimeras who had humanoid bodies but gained patches of fur, scales, or an extra limb like a tail could be branded as failures or successes, semi-successes effectively, depending on how drastic these mutations were. They were never considered ‘true’ successes, however, because they had to hide anomalous traits and could still be discovered. The chimeras that the military wanted so badly were either of two kinds. Completely humanlike with enhanced senses and no alterations to their outward appearance, and those that could switch between a beast-man or human form, like a werewolf.

Vitale was considered a true failure. He had stable organ systems, and functioned just fine, but his body was so altered that he could not go out in public, nor could he become human in appearance. His facial expressions were animal, and his behavior was odd. All chimeras would find themselves gaining instincts from their animals, but sometimes they ran stronger than what was desired. It was apparent in Vitale’s hatred of touch, and even his tendency to bite if provoked sufficiently.

It sounded like Fullmetal’s dog was a failure, too. They could probably speak like a human, but if they were mistaken for a dog and could wander in public as such, there was no possible way that they were a success, having completely lost humanoid form. The dog was rumored to be a wolf—probably just wolf-like in appearance, and very large. The person was still clearly there, for them to perform alchemy at the speed Florian was describing. Vitale was no alchemist, but he knew that transmutation speed was an indicator of skill.

This failed chimera was skilled.

Florian sighed again, “Flame knows about the experiments, and disapproves of them; I believe he is Fullmetal’s commanding officer, so he is hiding the dog…I recall the child called them Bunny, so female…”

There was something in his tone, “What are you planning, Florian?”

“Perhaps we need to find a way to speak with Fullmetal, open communications…”

“After an attempt to kill them? Why would they be willing to talk when you attacked them? Even if you are strongly against harming minors, I know you would have fought anyway, to keep up the illusion that you do not care. You might have even said some sort of callous line.” He did not miss the flinch, at that, “You are too good an actor, and while in your shows that was excellent, it is a problem, now. How do they know who the real person is?”

“They don’t, but whether it puts us in danger or results in shared information, I think we should try.”

“Why do you always want to do things that almost get you killed? You worry me.” He turned his head and started walking again, stepping over a fallen branch.

“You could go and make first contact, if you are that concerned.” He suggested.

Another frustrated owl trill, “And what makes you think that they would trust me more than you? I could be mistaken for a monster and _shot_.” His ear-feathers raised sharply, almost vertical, and he clacked his beak. There was a long, tense silence, before Vitale’s feathers smoothed down slightly, “You’ll do it anyway if I don’t agree, won’t you?”

Silence, but that was as good as confirmation.

“Well, discussion for another time. We are not doing anything until you are healed. Whenever that happens, _then _we can try to find a solution that will not end with us both dead or imprisoned. But we are not returning to Swallow’s Song. I refuse to go to their bases, they are compromised and targeted by things we cannot fight.”

Florian finally spoke, “Should we warn Flame about that?” He asked.

“…_If_ we succeed, I think yes. Chimera soldiers might sometimes obey orders, the successes, but most of them do not entirely like their jobs, because it cost them their humanity in some way. These _things_ did not even show remorse.” He ducked under a low-hanging log that was caught between some trees. That _really_ hurt his already strained legs and back. Everything hurt.

“…What were they like?” The alchemist of the pair asked. Vitale’s farsightedness was bad for seeing things up close, but on the other hand, he could easily examine things at a distance with more detail.

“A woman: long black hair, large bust, pale skin, a red tattoo on the collarbone. Fingers that extend with seemingly no limit like blades, fast enough that the movement is difficult to track even with enhanced kinetic vision. She sliced things like swords in half, and even the barrels of guns. The second, an overweight bald man with a bulbous nose. Red nodule-like markings connected by lines on the body, and a glimpse I got of his tongue suggests he has a tattoo like the woman on it…but I dared not linger longer than what it took to determine basic features.”

“…Did he have those blade-like fingers as well?”

“No, worse. His jaw opens wide enough it is as if it could unhinge like a snake, and I saw him bite a man in two. He acts like a gleeful child. I wish I did not have such good hearing, it was nauseating…” If he ever heard the noises of someone’s body being _chewed_ again, it would be too soon, and far too many times for his taste. His hearing meant he had been incapable of ignoring the noises, even when he was out of sight.

“…Disturbing…”

“Revolting,” The chimera agreed, before they lapsed into silence again.

“Vitale?” Florian asked after a while.

“What is it now?”

“How long have you been carrying me?”

“For many hours…”

“What…?!” There was something horrified in his voice, then, “Forget _me_, you need to put me down, you won’t even be able to move tomorrow!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah the homunculi figured it was time to get involved.
> 
> On a more serious note, there are several ways that Florian and Vitale can go. They can't immediately show up anywhere because for a bit, they'll be focused on trying to ensure that they've actually lost their pursuers. Florian is also pretty badly injured, and technically Vitale has injured himself, too, by pushing his muscles too far. According to medical readings, it will probably be over a month before our second chimera OC recovers from the overuse injuries, and it may actually be longer than that before any contact is made. I haven't looked up how long it takes for gunshots to heal, but I'm sure it takes a while (I have a really weird search history because of this fic and my need for some amount of scientific accuracy, by this point).
> 
> So, I figured I'd talk with my readers about where Florian and Vitale go. They could be daring and go to Central, which will lead to them encountering one of two options: The first would be Mustang's aunt, and her people, which would be interesting though I don't know much about these characters, and would basically be working with whatever sparse information there is. The second would wind up being Hughes and his family. Either one would be very tense, the pair has kinda dug themselves into a hole, here. Hughes does actually pose some level of threat, he has knives and knows how to use them. And a gun. (Why don't we list the gun first?) The other options involve encountering the Elrics and Bunny themselves in some coincidental meeting, or even the truly bizarre occurrence of them somehow encountering the Rockbells on the lam in Resembool (Not sure where I'd go with that one honestly).
> 
> I leave it up to you which options sound the most fascinating. I'm personally leaning towards Madame Christmas.
> 
> Ignoring the options, some other fun stuff, Vitale's design. Vitale is designed from the margay and a Eurasian Eagle-owl (margay looks like an ocelot). His upper body down to the base of the rib cage is almost entirely like the owl, right down to his facial expressions and body language (Which are deliberate as a source of conflict, showing how a truly 'wild' chimera behaves). His hands are still human-like in shape, but are covered in downy feathers and have sharp talon-like nails. They do possess pads that muffle sound, like a cat. He does have feathering on his arms that, left alone, would grow out long into something almost like a cloak, leftover from the owl's wings, but he actually deliberately trims these feathers using scissors, to reduce their length and make it easier to wear clothing (another reason he hates clothing, at least shirts anyway). The lower body is literally like a cat-person matching a margay fur pattern, and the tail of a margay can make up as much as 70% the body length, so the same applies to Vitale. Other than that...build-wise, Vitale is actually not super bulky like other FMA chimeras. He's more on the lean, agile side, versus bodybuilder like Armstrong. He has a lot of fluffy feathers, though, that give him a sleeker silhouette and a bit more size. The fur on his cat half is similarly plush. Unusually enough, the colors of a margay and the owl species were surprisingly close, so the fur and feathers blend pretty nicely in appearance.
> 
> So for references to Vitale's behavior, I used an article written by a biologist who specializes with owls, linked [here](http://www.birdskoreablog.org/?p=16505) by Birds Korea Blog regarding owl cafes, as well as videos of Yoll the Eagle-Owl, a captive-bred bird that is kept by Nika Zubra, an ornithologist in Russia. Yoll cannot hunt and cannot survive in the wild, but I have heard that a lot of people watch her videos to better understand owls
> 
> Back to our scripts!
> 
> (East Command Office)
> 
> Mustang, slumped over his desk: *Silent contemplation and despair*
> 
> Hawkeye: Colonel, I advise you not to be asleep during work hours.
> 
> Mustang: I'm not asleep.
> 
> Hawkeye: *Silently waits for explanation*
> 
> Mustang: Maes is forcing me to go to Elicia's birthday party-
> 
> Hawkeye: I fail to see the problem, sir.
> 
> Mustang: -with Elric.
> 
> Hawkeye: I still fail to see the problem.
> 
> Mustang: Not you, too.


	22. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Philosopher's Stone lead does not end happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to sugarcoat things, this chapter was one that I've been contemplating for a long time, because I think it is highly plausible in the FMA universe that something like this could happen while the Elrics were searching for the Philosopher's Stone. Initially, I thought of just referencing events happening, but then realized that showing what actually happens was a better way of telling you what the psychological impact on characters would be. Hearing about things after the fact waters them down, and the story actually demonstrates that, a bit.
> 
> That in mind, this chapter is dark. Very, very dark, in my opinion. This is where the mature rating comes from. I won't say this chapter has a happy ending.
> 
> Another note; Bunny's influence does affect Ed and Al as they develop, and that shows here. Ed is a bit more controlled and composed than what I think it would be in canon, and that is my primary change that I think could make him seem a little OOC. Otherwise, I try to retain the spirit of the character.
> 
> This chapter takes place a month after the previous one. The next one will probably be the birthday party.

The funny thing about following leads for the Philosopher’s Stone, in Edward’s experience, was the fact that regardless of how a rumor got started, there was always something else that demanded his attention. In all the cases thus far they did not find what they were looking for, but investigations rarely turned out completely meaningless. The rumors often began with alleged miracles, and almost always, they were started by people intending to use alchemy for personal gain, some of them not even knowing how to perform it in the first place. Ed was often shocked by the greed and selfishness of other human beings—though it had been lessening the more he saw it—but perhaps more surprising, was how gullible the general public could be.

Sometimes, those two things, the selfishness of a liar, and the willingness to immediately believe anything on the part of citizens, combined to produce horrific results.

Which was how he wound up crouching in the middle of a park in Meox, trying to slide his folded-up red coat under the head of a young boy who was probably only five, to take Bunny’s place. The child’s body was wracked by spasms, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he seized up in a semi-fetal position; the mother was at a complete loss, standing close by, and weeping hysterically. Ed could not do anything except make sure the boy’s head was cushioned, and between fits, he hurriedly turned him over on his side so his airway would be clear for safety reasons. Alphonse, meanwhile, actively moved around and warded people away from the scene, trying to make an open space, Bunny joining him in his task.

It was all they could do, simply watching and waiting until it was over. They could only hope that whatever was in the child’s system would not kill him. The so-called miracle elixir an alchemist had been peddling contained unknown substances, and was the latest rumor linked to the Philosopher’s Stone they had come chasing. They could already tell the lead was probably false, but it was clear they would have to intervene. There was a very real concern that, even if the boy survived, he would have some sort of permanent damage from whatever he had been taking. Seizures were a neurological symptom, which was disheartening, and very scary to witness personally. Ed forced down any outward signs of distress, though his heart twisted painfully. A stable presence was what everyone needed right now. He would save his outrage for the person responsible for this. He could control his anger, to some extent.

The only indicator that anything bad was going to occur was the knowledge of an unknown substance in the elixir itself, and Bunny. She had been keeping a watchful eye on the child, strangely uncoordinated for his age as he tottered around, while Ed and his brother talked to the boy’s mom, trying to figure out where the elixir salesman was working from in the city. She had been reluctant to speak to them, believing that the alleged cure was reducing her son’s issues with a disorder that rendered him mostly nonverbal. Seeing Ed’s watch, beyond her disbelief at his age, she worried that the military was coming to take the miracle elixir away, and that she would no longer be able to obtain the drug.

Events took a turn for the worse shortly after.

At some point in the middle of their prompting, the chimera had given an alerting whine and begun pacing around the child in tight circles.

Moments later, the boy’s eyes had rolled into the back of his head and he had fallen backward, convulsing, only escaping having his head crack against the ground because Bunny had reacted quickly enough to catch him. A small crowd gathered, murmuring amongst themselves, expressing concern, only to be shooed away by a stranger in metal armor, with a request to make more room. There was no drastic flailing of limbs, only the body forcibly tensing over and over.

When the child slipped into unconsciousness after everything was over, either due to something being seriously wrong, or because the repeated clenching of his muscles had exhausted him, Ed turned his focus to the mother. Her hands were clasped over her mouth, and her eyes were red-rimmed, her face tear-streaked. “He isn’t prone to seizures, is he?” Ed asked. It came out more like a statement; some people did have problems that caused them to get seizures, but the mother’s reaction was one of complete shock, as if she had never seen it before. He was convinced it was the elixir. It might have caused some distress if the mom was familiar, but she had been completely clueless, with no idea how to respond.

The lady slowly shook her head, “No…no he’s never…” She took a deep, shaky breath that sounded too harsh, “…You aren’t doctors…but…”

Edward shook his head slowly, “We’re not, but neither is that guy who’s selling that stuff. Not a real one.” His voice was flat and cold.

The woman looked at him with wide, horrified eyes, no doubt struck by his response being void of warmth, almost as if it were a physical blow. He could have tried to put emotion into his voice, but if he did, he knew it would be the wrong one. His hands were clenched into fists by his sides and they shook, a painful pressure building in his chest. Ed was angry, but not his usual, explosive sort that he was known for. This anger was more like proper, burning _rage_, a seething river that wanted to drown the person who was responsible for this.

All because of greed, a little boy had been poisoned. All because of ignorance, a mother had caused harm to her child. Now Ed had to stop himself from taking it out on this woman who was probably just as upset as he was, if not worse. She was probably being crushed by guilt, knowing she had encouraged her son to drink the very poison that was causing him to have problems now.

He felt acid creeping into his throat; pure disgust at what was being done here in this city.

Alphonse walked up, putting a hand on Ed’s shoulder, a subtle reassurance. The suit of armor looked at the woman, “I’m going to call an ambulance.” She nodded wordlessly, and the leather gauntlet left Ed’s shoulder, as his younger brother set out to complete his task. Bunny remained near the child, sniffing him occasionally as if inspecting for something, and glaring at people who got too close. Hopefully the kid was just sleeping. Hopefully he would wake up in the future.

“I…” The mother choked out, “…I just wanted to hear him say words…” It probably did hurt. Seeing other kids similar in age growing up, babbling, and talking, while her own son was left behind. Probably, even if it never had anything to deal with her, wondering where she had gone wrong, and being judged for it. A part of Ed could comprehend the desperation for something so normal, but another part of him was too furious to care about the woman’s troubles. There was no telling what else was wrong with her child. She had leapt at the opportunity to try a new medicine because the seller had claimed it would make a nonverbal boy speak with time.

The doctor and alchemist was a fraud, and he was poisoning his customers. Ed was going to haul him off to jail.

It was like watching his own mistakes come back to haunt him, in a new, revolting way. Desperation for something normal, a mother’s warmth and a child’s words. Willingness to resort to something that, in any other situation, you would never attempt because you knew it could be dangerous, some part of you knew it was wrong. Out of desperation, you took that unproven cure, committed that forbidden act, and someone else paid the price. A mother’s child, a little brother who felt nothing in a metal shell.

Nothing could have prevented Ed from what he had done, as much as he wished he had never suggested it, and dragged Al into it. They had been given every opportunity to give up and walk away. Teacher said death was part of the cycle, unavoidable and irreversible, even as they planned to use the skills she taught them to attempt human transmutation. Bunny came along closer to the time they made their mistake, living proof of alchemy gone wrong and the horrible consequences that came with it. If she had known what they were doing, she would have stopped them; she had _tried_, and her screams haunted his nightmares.

Edward Elric had been given every chance to walk away, but instead, he was the fool who thought he could bring back the dead.

So being cold and distant with this woman, failing to console her but stopping himself from screaming with anger, was the best he could do. “Ma’am, we need to know where this ‘Dr. Connor’ is. If you know where he’s working from, you need to tell us.” A bit of hoarseness crept into his voice, holding back a snarl.

She was silent, before giving a slight nod, wiping away tears, “He’s…working from a truck he keeps on 13th Street South, by the intersection from 9th West Lane…” She took a steadying breath and looked over at where her son was being guarded by Bunny. “…Is…is he going to be o-kay…?” She would probably break down at the slightest thing, barely keeping control for whatever reason.

Edward looked over at the unconscious boy, “Honestly…?” He responded, “I can’t answer that. He had a seizure. That’s not normal. That’s why you need to get a real doctor to look at him. If he’s ingested something there might be a treatment, but…whatever’s wrong, it’s bad.”

She walked up to her child and Bunny stepped aside, silent, “…This…this is all my fault…” She broke down again.

Nobody moved to tell her it was not, as a group of paramedics arrived, being led by Al to the scene, where they loaded the child onto a stretcher, almost snatching the signature read cloak, too, but leaving it after a brief exchange. They began to carry the boy away to the ambulance. The mother trailed behind, looking as if she were grieving. People stood around, lingering in their daily stroll, whispering amongst themselves.

Alphonse walked up to him, and offered him back his cloak, still folded, “They were getting ready to take it, but I figured you’d want it back. It might have a bit of drool on it, though.” Ed actually might not have cared, because of what purpose it had served. He was always transmuting it because of damage it sustained during fights; he appreciated the gesture, though, as he took it back, no doubt wearing a horrible expression on his face. Ed was not even sure what his own expression was.

“She told us where to find him,” Ed said, as Bunny lumbered over to join them. The chimera’s head was lowered, but he got the sense that she was angry. She did not make eye contact because she probably did not want anyone to see whatever was lurking in her gaze. It was one of her habits, to hide negative emotions she would prevent people from getting a good look at her face. Al’s helmet was angled down in a similar way, though this was more expression than if he had done nothing at all. “I think we’ll take him on a trip to the nearest police station.” Ed added.

Al gave a slight nod, “Let’s stop him, brother.”

“You still have some anise capsules?”

There was a hum of confirmation.

“Bunny,” The chimera did not look up but her ears pricked forward, listening. “Don’t worry about us catching up if he runs.” If he came with them and allowed himself to be arrested without trouble, it would be fine.

If not, he would be hunted down.

Usually, when alchemists were involved in some sort of illegal activity, they would quickly find out that Fullmetal was in town, and try to flee, knowing that they would soon have someone from the state after them. The Hero of the People had obtained his title for a reason, firstly because he was often involved in things related to public safety or search-and-rescue, and secondly, because he sometimes went vigilante. There was no outstanding warrant for a Dr. Connor over the poisoning of children, but given the circumstances, one would probably be issued in the near future—if Dr. Connor was even the man’s real name.

An old man wearing a white coat and a stethoscope (To further sell his doctor’s persona, though he never used it) cheerfully regarded the populace from a brightly-colored blue van with a door cut in the side, like a food truck, blissfully unaware of approaching danger. It looked nothing like a place that provided medical care, save for the way the person inside was dressed. A chalkboard display sat on brown cobblestone, advertising Dr. Connor’s Miracle Elixir Cure-All in big, bold letters. Most people rolled their eyes upon seeing the sign as they passed, and the owner of the little truck would smile and wave if someone made eye-contact, subtly inviting them to come over and interact. His eyes contained no warmth like his smile, if one looked closely. He analyzed potential customers, looking to see who would be his next victim. A typical conman.

Like people usually did, familiar with the increasingly famous stories of Fullmetal, the instant Alphonse appeared within his line of sight, the scammer’s entire body tensed, and hurriedly, he withdrew into his truck, pulling down a metal screen. Edward would choose to address his annoyance at the case of mistaken identity later; the man clearly knew who they were by appearance, and he also knew why they were there. He appeared inside the driver’s section of the vehicle, getting into the seat behind the steering wheel and pulling the seatbelt to buckle himself in—more concerned with safety, compared to previous criminals who had tried to run.

It really was a good question, though, which was more dangerous; a very angry State Alchemist, or driving without a seatbelt. Nobody would ever find out, as a flash of blue was followed by stone spikes erupting from the ground and slashing into all four tires of the vehicle, rendering it immobile. The man looked at his mirrors, out his own window, and saw what had happened as a Ed approached with purpose, not bothering to hide his glare. When he was within earshot, the elder Elric shouted, “Get out of the car! Hands on your head!” It was important when dealing with potential alchemists to make sure they did not have their hands in pockets or anywhere reaching for weapons. The same logic went for traditional things like knives and guns.

Bunny trailing behind Ed, meanwhile, had started barking; although she preferred to howl at things, the barks were considered more intimidating in most situations, so she usually tailored her sounds to be suitable for her task. Her own activities were a subtle warning that the man would be chased if he tried to run. Ed took up his place on the driver’s side, while his brother went around to the other side in case the man tried to flee from the passenger door.

Dr. Connor looked back and forth, face pale, and Ed had no patience, “I said _get out of the car!”_ Perhaps realizing that he was making the situation worse for himself, the man unbuckled himself and scurried out the driver’s side door. Then, in a terrible error of judgement, rather than choosing to comply with demands, he tried to take his chances. He attempted to bolt away from the three, even though one of them would naturally be faster than a regular human being.

“Al! He’s running!” Ed shouted. Bunny snarled and gave chase, intending to close the distance and pin him.

At that moment, the older man reached into a pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper, unfolding it. There was a black pattern on it: an array of sorts. Connor nearly tripped over himself as he dropped to the ground with the paper and activated the transmutation circle. A pillar of rock rose from the street behind him, and he turned his head to watch with gritted teeth, aiming it at the chimera that was rapidly approaching with the intent of blocking her. Ed knew his friend would be frustrated, later, seeing yet another amateur transmuting stone with ease while she struggled with solid elements constantly.

Bunny reacted faster.

She swerved around the first pillar, and was already on top of the second as it began to rise, moving over it like a static wall or obstacle. She dodged a third transmuted attack, this time a spike meant to cause damage, and was on top of Connor before he could do anything else. Her teeth ripped into the paper with the array, destroying it, while her claws dug into the man’s shoulders to keep him in place. He cried out and tried to flail his arms, hitting her in the side of the head once, but given how thick her skull was, he only succeeded in making her angrier. Ed, of course, did not approve of this, “Stop hitting her!” He shouted. He heard her slight yelp, though, from a second hit, and the third time, the man aimed a punch at her throat, earning a cough, before her patience ran out.

There was a deep growl, and a harsh bark, before she lunged forth and snapped her teeth dangerously close to the man’s nose and eyes, enough that even at a distance one would think she had seriously intended to bite him. No such thing happened, but after succeeding in making Connor flinch, she continued to keep her face almost touching his, the whites of her eyes showing and snout wrinkled. Her tail was raised and wagged slightly in a not-so-amused way. She never stopped growling. If he dared to even _look_ at her wrong or showed signs of relaxing, she would make a snap at his face again.

This terrified bystanders, who kept their distance and eyed the massive chimera warily. She looked absolutely vicious.

Edward and Alphonse, however, were used to this behavior, so they simply walked up, with Ed clapping his hands and transmuting rings of stone around the fraudulent doctor’s arms and legs. “Trying to run away from Bunny is a stupid move, and fighting back is even worse,” Ed commented, trash-talking because the chimera could not. “She could tear you to shreds. You’re lucky she held back.”

_“Held back?!”_ The man choked, as the chimera removed her weight from his person, moving to stand between the brothers. “Your psycho mutt tried to bite my face off!”

“Frankly I would say you deserve it,” Ed told the man flatly, withdrawing his silver pocket watch and holding it so that he could see it, “Mr. Connor, I’m Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” He said, as he returned the object to its pocket. He had deliberately avoided calling the man a doctor. No decent doctor would poison his patients.

The man sneered at him, “What? I’m a small-fry, why are you coming after me? Shouldn’t you be hunting terrorists or something?” So not even bothering to play dumb, but concluding right from the beginning that he was being pursued for some sort of crime. It would save everyone a lot of needless conversation when this was shaping up to be an unpleasant discussion, regardless.

Alphonse spoke, then, “We came looking for the Philosopher’s Stone, do you have one?” He asked outright.

Connor chuckled, “Well, I guess I can’t get out of this, eh?” He tested the stone bindings around his wrists, “Nah, I don’t have one. Makes a great marketing gimmick, though. Works on non-alchemists, since it’s supposed to be some big miracle, though it surprised even me, a bit, how effective it is. If I actually had one, don’t you think I’d try to be better about hiding it, and maybe work from someplace nicer than a truck? People are shockingly gullible, what they’re willing to believe, especially if they’re desperate.”

The suit of armor shook, “And the elixir, what was in it?”

“A few basic herbal remedies, it’s not entirely a lie, that it won’t cure things. Willow bark powder for fevers, valerian root for anxiety and stress, azarcon for stomach problems, honey for a bit of taste-” All of them were traditional names, and legitimate even to Ed’s memory, except-

Alphonse took in a sharp breath, or at least it sounded that way to people, “Azarcon!?” The leather gauntlets tightened into fists, “That’s almost pure lead tetroxide! You’ve been giving people lead!” It was an old folk remedy that was proven to do more harm than good; a lead salt that came in a powdered form. From Bunny’s studies on things relating to medicine, powder, Ed knew, absorbed far more easily into the body than something solid. Azarcon could be up to ninety percent lead, so it was a horrible thing to put inside the body, to put it lightly.

Ed gritted his teeth, “You’re an alchemist and you don’t know how toxic lead is? Did you just deliberately ignore it? You know you could have escaped a lot of charges and grief if you’d used only harmless ingredients, but that’s _poison.”_

Bunny bristled, and started growling when the man laughed, “Yet people still buy from me, even though the effect isn’t instant.” Connor responded, “They’re so desperate for some miracle cure they’ll take any lie I feed them. You think it’s entirely my own fault when other people allow themselves to be fooled so easily? Anybody with common sense knows that while there are legitimate people, there are also scams. They should have been more skeptical. I wasn’t even trying that hard, and I still made sales.”

Edward’s hands clenched into fists, “That doesn’t justify what you’ve done. Little kids are getting put in the _hospital_ because you sold their parents a toxic substance.”

“Well then that’s mom and dad’s fault isn’t it?” Connor shot back. “I don’t decide who takes the medicine, I just sell it.”

“Shut up!” Ed snapped back. This man was caught, and confessing his entire scam to everyone who could hear, and yet he was trying to argue he was somehow less guilty? He thought that a few legitimate herbal remedies negated the one potentially lethal poison he had included with the ingredients, and that because people failed to recognize his scam, he was ultimately not at fault? He had still used lies to promote his product, and people could die or suffer permanent problems. Lead was one of the most dangerous things you could expose a person to, _especially_ young children.

Dark vans, which Ed recognized as belonging to the local military police force, rounded the corner, uniformed officers emerging almost before the vehicles stopped. Sparing them a glance, Ed returned his focus to Connor, “You’re being arrested, and I’ll be giving them a full breakdown of the elements and chemicals in your so-called ‘elixir.’ You better hope that whoever you hurt gets better, because I imagine they’ll be putting you away in prison for a very long time.”

Connor chuckled as officers approached, demanding surrounding witnesses to explain what was going on, taking pictures of the spikes and damage created via alchemy, and a few barking orders. “Well, I’m not unreasonable, I’ll cooperate,” He said, just as officers approached to begin asking what exactly had happened.

Ed fully expected things to not go the way the conman wanted them to.

…Later, something that was announced within Meox’s newspaper itself, and even spread to neighboring cities, was the story of Arnold J. Lewis, operating a scam selling a purported miracle elixir under the false name William Connor. The elixir was poisonous, containing a high dosage per bottle of azarcon, a type of lead salt that was formerly administered as a treatment for gastric issues in the far western corner of Creta as a folk remedy. Although Lewis attempted to claim the poisonings he had caused had been unintentional, evidence at the scene of his arrest, and actual notes within his truck were considered sufficient to rule that he had deliberately sold something dangerous to people with the intent of it being consumed.

A total of twelve children and five adults developed symptoms of lead poisoning, but the number of people who came forward as alleged victims was much higher. Lewis was later convicted on multiple felony charges, and was sentenced to life in prison without parole. His arrest was credited to Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, who was in the city and tracked the criminal down, on suspicions that he was selling something toxic to the population.

The _South Amestris Weekly_ took this story and printed it throughout the region. One copy of the article found its way into the hands of a housewife married to a butcher. The woman was feeling well that day, in spite of regularly suffering from a mysterious illness, and scanned through the paper with interest while she sat at her dining room table that morning. She grimaced at the mention of children being involved, and showed an expression of relief when the criminal was reported to have been sentenced.

Then she got to the part of the article that mentioned the State Alchemist involved, and her face darkened. The paper scrunched up in her hands, “Those two idiots!” She snarled, and her husband, who was busy washing dishes leftover from breakfast, regarded her with a slightly raised brow. “I still can’t believe my stupid pupils became dogs of the military! I’ll kill them the next time I see them!”

This was a regular occurrence, whenever news of the Elric brothers reached the Curtis household.

In the city of Geob, two men stood in an alleyway. One wore a pair of dark glasses and loose long hair that fell down his back in a curtain, almost to the middle, tattered slightly as if it needed a trim. There was also a blue bandanna drawn over his lower face and running down his neck, hiding most of his features. He wore a long brown coat and dark gloves. What little skin showed on this stranger’s person was as pale as ivory, as if he did not get out in the sun very often. He almost seemed to glow, as a result.

The other was completely covered by a tan cloak and hood, and his entire face was concealed by a black mask with turquoise blue lines streaking down from the eyes, like tears. If one looked closely, they would see a flash of blood-orange in the second man’s eyes, or the way his movements seemed slightly unusual. The brown gloves on his hands were tipped by pieces of metal, and they looked eerily like some sort of exotic weapon.

The first man was reading a newspaper, leaning against the wall of one of the buildings, brow furrowed slightly, “Looks like Fullmetal caught someone again,” He commented, offering it to his companion, with one finger pointing to the article itself in the page. His friend took the paper from him, looking it over himself, bobbing his head in a strange sort of fidget at one point.

“Indeed he did…” He mused, “So long as they do not appear near us, we are fine.”

“Still don’t think meeting them is a good idea, huh?”

“In our current state, no. Your leg is still messed up, and us not being able to find completely stable food sources is doing nothing for our need for rest. I am beginning to wonder if you will ever walk without a limp ever again.”

The man did not acknowledge the discussion of whether or not his healing injury was permanent. “Well, we have a few hours, and then we’ll be setting off on the road again. They’ll never think to look for us in Central.”

“Sometimes the hardest things to find are under your nose.”

“Let’s hope that they are too confident we would never hide there.”

Mustang rubbed his temples, feeling horrified as he sat at the desk in his private residence, reading over a briefing from his informants. The latest Philosopher’s Stone lead had resulted in the Elric brothers becoming involved in a case that, if he had known what was going on, he would have never sent them. Hawkeye often criticized him for abandoning his sense of judgement; it was inevitable that they would see something horrible that threatened the safety of innocents like children. Even so, he thought Fullmetal was too young, too immature, to properly tackle such things. He knew he was messing up these three kids that he had met in Resembool that fateful day, but he had no idea what he could do to fix it, or otherwise prevent it.

Everyone else was starting to get to him, he had realized. Maes scolding him for being too harsh, because Fullmetal was a teenager rife with hormones and Mustang and his office did not quite count as proper role models for him or his younger brother. _“You’re role models whether you want to admit it or not, Roy,” _His friend had told him, _“Ed’s been stealing your facial expressions, you know that?”_

No, he did not know. He knew that sometimes Fullmetal smirked, rather than that maniacal grin that he had stolen from Bunny at some point, but never did the Colonel think that it was a mirror of his own facial expressions. He had been doing everything in his power to _prevent_ Fullmetal, his brother, or the chimera from latching onto him as anything other than a commanding officer and a figure of authority. The fact that it had happened anyway, in spite of his efforts, was disheartening. He did not think he was a good role model, himself. To most people, he was a womanizer, a procrastinator, lazy, and always seeking a promotion, even resorting to blackmail. None of those things set good examples for children, and he did not need to be an actual parent to recognize that.

Even so, he had finally accepted the sheer depth of his mistakes. He had overstepped and found himself hurled into the East River by a very angry chimera who had been a victim of such behavior. He knew that had been an act of mercy, on her part. He had been overstepping boundaries constantly before the final straw of going through her records. He had been bringing up traumatic memories and threats against loved ones as leverage against his subordinate, to the point that outside of the usual settings, Fullmetal had begun to panic at the prospect of Mustang separating him from Bunny, and probably his brother, as well. He had mostly wanted to keep the unruly teen in line, but instead he had broken what little trust there had been at the beginning.

Fullmetal was a _child_. How would he understand the threat was not serious? How would his brother, even younger? The chimera, even if she understood that Mustang’s motivations were not malicious, (She must have, because she seemed less wary than the other two) she did not completely trust him anyway. She was closed off from Mustang emotionally on some level, Maes, too, and the Colonel had a creeping suspicion that it was because she knew that the two friends would talk about things. She often made comments that told him she knew that they were good friends. If she did not trust one, it seemed that she had decided she could not trust the other, either.

Since then, Mustang had been trying to remind himself not to go too far. He would still taunt Fullmetal about his height (because the kid’s reactions were hilarious, and admittedly, he needed to grow a thicker skin), and pick at some of his destructive behaviors. It was not beneficial for him to destroy public property or entire city blocks if it could be avoided, and his tendency to go vigilante sometimes encompassed things that were not clear-cut crimes. Even so, he had told himself he would stop bringing up the transmutation, stop threatening to send people away.

At least in recent history, though it was still too soon to really tell, he thought it was working. Fullmetal looked slightly less tense when he interacted with the Colonel, and his usual fiery disposition felt more natural, rather than like forced posturing. He was definitely getting fewer glares from the chimera.

The ultimate test would be the birthday party in another month, though, seeing if Mustang and Fullmetal could still behave like civil human beings around a pack of excitable children. Maes often told him he would be surprised to know that Ed was actually very well-behaved in certain contexts. He still struggled with believing that, but his friend was ultimately better with minors than the Colonel was.

His current concern, though, was simply the fact that Fullmetal and his brother had seen something like lead poisoning, and worrying that they would have been hit very hard by the realization that it could not be fixed with a well-aimed punch. Because of Bunny’s presence, some of their research relating to bio-alchemy did veer into medicinal purposes, and it might very well upset them, not being aware of any way to read the damage caused by lead poisoning.

They would probably still be fine, but Mustang cursed his own carelessness, all the same. He had passed them a Philosopher’s Stone lead, and though he knew things like this would happen, that made the truth no easier to accept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was heavily based off of a real-world cure-all known as Miracle Mineral Supplement (Has its own Wikipedia article), which when people mix it as instructed, reacts and becomes a form of industrial bleach. As recently as a week ago I have read news stories where advocacy groups and law enforcement are trying to stop groups from selling it.
> 
> On the bright side, for those of you who made it through this chapter, the next one is intended to be far more satisfying and pleasant (Elicia's birthday party!)
> 
> Back to the script!:
> 
> (In prison, in a common area with other inmates)
> 
> Prisoner 1: Hey, new guy, what are you in for?
> 
> Former Dr. Connor: Fraud (stares at hands, which are cuffed in a way meant to prevent alchemy)
> 
> Prisoner 1: Papers?
> 
> Connor: *confused* Papers?
> 
> Prisoner 2: He wants to see the information surrounding your arrest, pal. You better not be hiding anything.
> 
> Prisoner 1: I suggest you get your papers.
> 
> Connor: Okay, then, can I see yours, then?
> 
> Prisoner 1: *hands Connor a stack of papers detailing some very scary crimes*
> 
> Connor: *faintly* Oh...so you're the head guy here.... *begins sweating nervously*
> 
> (For context, prisoners are particularly nasty towards inmates who hurt children)


	23. When One Thing Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elrics and Bunny arrive at the Hugheses' new home the day before Elicia's birthday party. An uneasy peace with the arrival of Mustang is awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow this got too long, so the birthday party is next chapter for sure.

The Hughes family previously lived within an apartment building with three bedrooms, two baths, and a decently-sized kitchen, connected to a joined dining and living room. After Elicia’s birth, her crib was kept in her parent’s room so that she could be looked after throughout the night. The problem with this arrangement, then, was that Nina was already five years old, compared to Elicia’s two, and the house began to feel cramped. The natural solution for most households would be that when Elicia was old enough that she could be given her own room, the spare third room would become hers. The Hughes family, however, had a very strong fondness for entertaining guests and having people stay over, whether it be relatives or family friends.

As a result of this, when Elicia was about one year old, they packed up and moved to a different part of Central into a proper house, with a decently-sized front and back yard, and a large fence that allowed some privacy. This was the first time that Edward, Alphonse, and Bunny had ever been to their new home, having had to search down the new address. Going inside after an enthusiastic greeting, they were met with cream-painted walls and wood panel flooring, and far more space. Much of the furniture remained the same, save for an extra couch having been placed that matched the preexisting green one.

They were able to take a cursory glance around when Hughes showed them in, the day before Elicia’s birthday party, before Ed was promptly tackled by an extremely excited little girl, “Big brothers Ed and Al!” She cried, effectively latching onto the older sibling’s leg. She had gotten the automail one, but did not seem to care about that fact. Consistently, the very young, or people who were regularly around amputees, did not usually show any discomfort about touching someone’s prosthetics. The same could not be said for most adults, though, and Bunny did not miss a brief flicker of some complex emotion pass through Hughes’ eyes. It vanished, though, when Ed promptly lifted the girl into his arms, doing so easily, and naturally, as if he had handled children on a regular basis.

“Hey, Nina, how are you?” He asked, giving her a brief hug that she returned. Al, meanwhile, unclipped the leash that Bunny was forced to wear in Central due to local ordinances.

“I’m good, can you put me down? I’m gonna hug Al and Bear, too!” It was fascinating how much more complex the girl’s language was, compared to when they had met her at age three.

Ed snickered, “Sure thing,” He set her down as gently as he had picked her up, and she ran over and hugged Alphonse, regardless of the fact that even a flesh-and-blood human would have felt nothing beneath the suit of armor. Al hugged her gently, just like his brother had, and let her run over to Bunny, where she fruitlessly tried to reach the chimera’s neck, still being too small to do so properly. She obligingly lowered her head, and Nina hugged her, though her arms could not wrap around her the entire way.

Bunny gave Nina a small lick on her forehead, earning a giggle as the child backed away. She sensed that Hughes might have been startled a bit by the gesture. Of course to a normal human it was strange, even if that human was the head of Investigations.

Meanwhile, Gracia rounded the corner, holding Elicia in her arms. The almost-two-year-old who would have her birthday tomorrow, on the same day that Ed would be turning fourteen, looked at them with only vague recognition, still a bit too young to really properly remember people that only rarely appeared. Even so, when her mother put her down, she slowly walked over, staring up at the three with wide, curious eyes. “Big brothers?” She echoed her sister’s words from earlier, sounding uncertain. She then pointed at Bunny, “Dog, sis!”

Nina huffed, “I know that, but I call her Bear.”

“Why?” She asked innocently.

“She’s like a teddy bear,” Nina answered. If it were a grown adult coming up with the nickname Bunny might have felt embarrassed. Strangely she had more trouble with being called ‘Bear’ than she did her actual name that her boys had come up with at ages ten and eleven. One could argue her current name was not much more dignified, but after people using it constantly, and seriously, it felt more mature somehow. It had been something of a relief that even if they knew her actual name, Hughes and Mustang had never once tried to call her by it, or try to be formal by calling her ‘Miss Lehr.’

She hurriedly forced down the memories of a formal, clipped tone spoken by men and women, before her blood became ice and she went numb out of a conditioned reflex.

Elicia seemed to contemplate Nina’s explanation for a moment, before nodding, “Okay!” It would be interesting to see what these two got up to when they were older. Bunny idly wondered if the girls would become sisters who were as close as Ed and Al were. Part of the reason the brothers had such a strong connection was possibly due to their own high intelligence and lack of peers that could keep up with them. It may have also been related to them living alone, the way they had. Would having two doting parents interfere with a connection or would the bond form anyway, regardless of blood? Was it the values encouraged by parents that led to such a relationship?

Bunny had no idea, she was the sole child born to her parents. She never had any siblings, so she could not say for certain she understood what it was like. Sometimes she felt like Ed and Al were her family, but her mind rebelled at trying to categorize it. They were _hers_, though not in a possessive, controlling way, and whatever nameless thing one would call the bond they shared now was enough for her. It had to be.

Unaware of the chimera’s inner contemplation, Gracia smiled at her and the brothers, “Ed, Al, Bunny, welcome back. I’m so glad you could come and visit for Elicia’s birthday,” She told them.

Ed gave her a casual wave, “Hey, Mrs. Hughes, how are you?”

“Working on the finishing touches of the decorations we’ll be putting up tomorrow for the party. I’ve only got a few strips of fabric left and the garlands will be finished.”

Al shifted his helmet a bit, “Do you need any help with putting them up?”

She waved away his concern, “You’re our guests, don’t worry about the party decorations, you already help plenty by cleaning up after yourselves and helping with the dishes after meals.” Trying to stay with the Hughes family could be painful for people who were inclined to believe that guests were a nuisance after a few days (which was most of the population, in Bunny’s opinion). Most individuals, after a day or two, would consider the extra expense of feeding guests, the need to keep them entertained, cleaning up after them, and the general disruption they could cause to a routine. Hughes and Gracia, however, seemed content with people staying for weeks or longer. It might have been that way for everyone, or it might have just been the trio.

It was hard to complain about houseguests that went out of their way to offer help with chores, and even financially, by paying for groceries—though Hughes and Gracia would protest the gesture, in spite of Edward’s ridiculous appetite. They were all were pretty used to taking care of themselves, so they did not generally require constant attention or conversation. If nobody wanted to chat they were just as content to read or draw quietly and out of the way. Otherwise, they were a good distraction for the children of the household, and decent babysitters, so they might have actually been helpful. It was hard to watch children and maintain a household or work at the same time.

Granted, one could argue Hughes distracted himself with his insane desire to take ten thousand photos. When not engaging in photography, he would waste his time on the job calling people to brag about his family. His constant work pileup was his own fault, realistically.

Hughes waved them in, “Well, that’s enough standing around the entrance, let me show you the new spare room.” He led them through the living room and up a flight of stairs, revealing a hallway with two doors. He walked straight to the end and opened the door, revealing the same exact furniture setup as their previous house, with the addition of a triangular roof and a larger window that was frosted, allowing diffused light in but preventing people from seeing anything. “The room we passed is the guest bathroom; we figured we would use this as a spare since the rest of the rooms are ground-level. I hope you don’t mind having to go up and down stairs.”

“No problem at all, Lieutenant Colonel,” Ed responded, slipping past him easily and setting the suitcase down in a corner out of the way.

“That’s good to hear. We have a fold-down bed in the new sofa downstairs, so we’ll have Roy staying, too, whenever he gets here. He should be showing up on a train later today.”

Ed’s expression grew carefully blank, hiding whatever obvious emotions he might have experienced at the concept of even temporarily being under the same roof as his commanding officer, even if it was for a civilian-type function. Recently Mustang had been less abusive, and she could not recall Ed talking about any sort of threats being made or behaving as if anything had happened, but that did not mean that anyone really forgot his actions, or even what Hughes had done, for that matter. Forgiveness did not mean things had gone back to the way they were before, given the huge breach of trust both men had committed. The brief widening of eyes Bunny saw behind Hughes’ glasses, and even Gracia as well, told her neither of the two had missed the sudden shift in demeanor.

Alphonse, as a suit of armor, had little expression. Figuring out how the younger Elric felt depended heavily on simply knowing him well enough or having good enough intuition to recognize his emotions. When he spoke, it would have been difficult, were it not for the context, to tell he probably closed off just like Ed did, “Won’t the Colonel try to get a hotel, though?” He asked, his voice betraying nothing.

“Nope, he doesn’t have a choice now!” Hughes, perhaps wisely, ignored the change of mood, “He’s not going to get away with staying at a hotel, because Nina and Elicia would be very upset.” He turned to look at his two daughters, one standing at their base, while the eldest had decided to bear-crawl up the stairs with her hands behind everyone, “Right, girls?”

Nina nodded enthusiastically, “Uncle Roy’s gotta stay here! We have room now.” She said, straightening to grab a hand rail for support.

Elicia frowned, “Uncle Roy?” Still struggling to match faces to names, perhaps, though another year would probably see the end of this confusion.

Nina charged down the stairs—though she kept her hand on the rail, and put her hands on her sister’s shoulders, “It’s Uncle Roy, sis, you don’t remember?”

“No,” Elicia answered innocently.

“He has black hair and wears a uniform like papa. Sometimes he has gloves with red alchemy circles.” Goodness gracious these children would kill Bunny with cuteness if she kept watching them for much longer. She had never heard transmutation circles or arrays being referred to as ‘alchemy circles,’ but it was accurate enough to not really matter. Considering Hughes referred to alchemy as ‘freaky circle science’ it made sense that Nina might pick up some of his terminology.

“alchemy?” Elicia pronounced the word perfectly, in spite of not knowing the meaning of it, phrasing it like a question.

“You draw these pattern circle-thingies and they light up and do stuff.”

“How?”

As Nina began to explain in the best terms she could (which was not very detailed), repeatedly being interrupted by her sister because of the knowledge gap that would be between them due to age, Gracia leaned over and whispered to her husband. “Oh no, they’re interested in alchemy, Maes.” She was more amused than anything else. If Hughes thought alchemy was freakish, it did not show, considering the fond expression on his face. Bunny was certain that if any of his children wanted to become alchemists, he would support them completely, no matter his own confusion regarding how transmutations worked.

Not that she even blamed him for finding it freakish. He was currently standing next to an oversized dog that was in reality a horrific combination of human and animal, all because of alchemy. His best friend could incinerate things just by rubbing together his fingers. Edward and Alphonse were capable of reshaping an entire landscape. The chimera did not even want to know what he would think, if he realized that there was no human being inside the younger Elric’s armor, only a disembodied soul bound by a seal of blood. Alchemy was a science that could produce miracles, but tripped into the supernatural easily. It took myths and stories and gave them a physical form, and it was _not_ a pretty end result.

Everyone agreed to head back downstairs, where Hughes proceeded to disappear into another room, before emerging with a massive photo album that he set down on the coffee table in the living room. The trio quietly endured picture after picture, until a new comment from the Lieutenant Colonel caught the three off-guard. “Gracia does so much, that’s why when you two get older, make sure you find wives that support you. If you’re lucky you’ll find someone who’s half as good as my Gracia!”

Ed, who had been drinking from a glass of water, nearly spat it out, but managed to swallow it down, before coughing a few times, flushing bright red, “Lieutenant Colonel!” He practically shrieked, “Where did _that_ come from!?” Al did not make his sibling’s embarrassment any better, starting to laugh at the reaction. Admittedly, it was a rather extreme way to respond, even if Hughes had never sprung such a topic on the brothers before. Bunny had no idea if it was because of the reference to marriage, or the fact that he had almost choked on his water. Probably a combination of both.

She supposed it was because of their age that Hughes was now bringing up things like finding a spouse. Ed would be fourteen and Al was thirteen, and the family man was not the sort to be content with simply tormenting his single, allegedly-a-womanizer best friend. He had to go torture a pair of teenage boys, too, who offered perfect targets in Mustang’s absence.

Bunny could no longer even contemplate something like marriage, and for that reason, she quietly got up and wandered into the kitchen without announcing her departure. It was not something that she desired particularly much, but it was frustrating knowing that it should have been an option, and that the choice had been taken away. Something prickled at the edge of her consciousness, and she was not so lacking in self-awareness that she failed recognize it as jealousy. She was envious of the freedoms that humans took for granted.

Gracia was busy preparing dinner, while Nina sat in a chair by the counter, coloring something in with crayons. Elicia was sitting in a highchair next to her, doing the same, but seemingly distracted by what her mother was doing. Bunny quietly reclined nearby, opting to listen to the two children as they interacted with each other and their mom.

“Alright Elicia, what am I making now?” Gracia asked, as she was cutting up potatoes for what Bunny guessed was a more complex dish.

“Making potatoes,” Elicia answered.

“She’s making stir-fry, sis,” Nina tried to correct her.

When Gracia switched a little bit later to slicing carrots instead, she repeated the question, and this time, got a different answer, “Making carrots.” It seemed that Elicia did not quite grasp that the items her mother was immediately handling would become something else, and focused on whatever she was doing at that exact moment. Nina sighed, not quite understanding that the answers were due to a developmental gap, and would probably go away as her sister got older.

A scent became prominent to Bunny’s mind, over the ingredients that Gracia was preparing, and she sighed, having just arrived here. She got back up and went through the living room and gave a loud series of barks, no longer having to restrict her volume due to people in neighboring apartments. Her bark was a deep, frightening sound that made plenty of people anxious. The chimera made her way over to the front door, and stood near it, looking over her shoulder at Hughes.

“I’m guessing that’s Roy,” He mused.

Ed snorted and got up off the sofa, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Great,” He said sarcastically, “I’m gonna go get another glass of water.” It was probably for the purpose of threatening Mustang in a passive-aggressive fashion, as much as it was not wanting to be in his immediate presence when he arrived. With that parting statement he vanished into the kitchen, Al slowly getting up to follow.

Part of the reason Bunny did not care so much that they were likely going to be staying under the same roof as Mustang was because the environment was a sort of safe space that did not belong to her, the boys, or the Colonel. It was forcibly level ground, an environment as comfortable as what could be achieved, without tipping a power balance towards any one person. Her other reason was simply the fact that, with Hughes around, Mustang had to be careful about how he behaved, and she had no qualms with putting him under pressure. He enjoyed dishing out insults and in general being very mean to Ed in particular, so it was satisfying to see him walking on eggshells.

Hughes threw open the front door, revealing Mustang wearing regular civilian clothing (it seemed he was fond of classier attire, she idly noted). “Roy! Good to see you!” The Lieutenant Colonel clapped him on the shoulder and ushered him inside; really more like a forceful shove that if his friend refused to go along with it, he would probably stumble and fall. “Bunny, can you get the door?”

She gave a quiet rumble and walked over. The door opened inward, so she simply batted it closed and pressed it until the lock clicked with a hand, carefully curling back her fingers to avoid scratching up the paint with her claws—because that was easy for her to do.

“I see that Fullmetal is already here,” Mustang commented.

“They’ve been here for a while,” Hughes told him, “You’re just in time to look at the photo album I brought out. Dinner will probably ready soon, too.” He slung an arm around his shoulders, and Bunny did not miss how the Colonel flinched. Normally she would have thought that he was simply not looking forward to the prospect of going through family photos with the Lieutenant Colonel, but the reaction was almost too extreme for it to be solely related to someone’s obsessive love for their family. She had the distinct feeling there was some undertone or context she was missing, but had no time to dwell on it as Nina rounded the corner.

“Uncle Roy!” She exclaimed, clinging to his leg.

He knelt down to ruffle her hair, “Hello, Nina,” He spied Elicia watching him from around the corner of the dining room. “Hello, Elicia,” He greeted the younger sister as he straightened.

As the younger girl echoed back his greeting, Bunny went back into the kitchen and dining area where the brothers were, seeing no further way of interacting. Somehow, the brothers had actually been invited to help Gracia cook, and were busy cutting up vegetables to go with the stir-fry she was making. Although they were not experts with knife skills, they did know how to do basic things regarding cooking. Ed was notably wearing a rubber glove on his hand, to prevent anything from getting into the various grooves.

It was something Bunny wondered about, if she would be able to do the same basic things. Gripping small objects like pens, pencils, and brushes were easy and she could handle them with the same skill as a human, and she was fine at holding larger objects. When it came to something involving larger, heavier objects combined with tasks that required a bit more movement, like cutting things with a knife, though, she was far less confident. She could _grip_ a knife just fine, but actually maneuvering it through something like a carrot or a tomato might result in her dropping it by accident.

Nina and Elicia returned to the kitchen, and based on sound drifting through the house, Bunny guessed that Hughes had, indeed, dragged Mustang into the living room to make him look at ten thousand photographs.

Dinner passed calmly without any major source of conflict, but was awkward, overall. For the most part the brothers did not directly bring up anything serious, and engaged in light conversation, mostly with Nina who was more talkative. Mustang was similar, except he mostly initiated discussions with the adults. Beyond the peaceful conversation, however, it was clear things were not quite right. Ed consumed his larger-than-average portion almost mechanically, and Al nearly forgot to slip food under his helmet to make it seem as if he was eating, at all. Mustang had the faintest traces of tension in his shoulders that never left. Hughes and Gracia tried to promote conversations between the two parties with mixed results.

Trying to eat her own meal in the midst of this was difficult; she could feel the anxiety in the room and it made her food look less appealing. Dog food was not really appreciated due to taste, so much as it was that she was hungry by dinner. Stress had a contagious element to it, and was very effective at making her lose her appetite. Then the chimera was forced to choke down her portion without the desire to eat at all, consuming it regardless. It was a survival mechanism that stemmed from multiple factors, a leftover from when food was restricted and controlled like rations, or when she had gone days without. She was careful not to overeat, but not having access to food, or skipping a meal was an immense source of anxiety. It did not even matter that Ed and Al would never deny her if she was hungry or needed more. Some things stayed, and did not go away.

After everyone was done with the meal, the brothers were the first to get up, wordlessly going around and collecting plates and used utensils, clearly intent on cleaning up the mess. Bunny could tell that Mustang was surprised by this, just like he had been surprised that they had helped with preparing dinner. “Boys, you don’t have to help clean up, you’re guests.” Hughes told them when Edward took his plate, the Lieutenant Colonel getting up out of his own chair, probably to take over.

“That’s why we’re helping,” Ed responded, “Seriously, we don’t mind.” He then continued with his task; the sole abnormality in the peaceful image was when he collected the Colonel’s plate, and shot him an irate look as he passed. Bunny, herself, picked up her own food bowl with her mouth, and began carrying the empty dish into the kitchen. Nina and Elicia both giggled as she did this, finding endless amusement in the concept of a dog trying to do the dishes—or at least bringing it to where it would be washed. She left the bowl of water, since there was nothing wrong with leaving it within reach for whenever she needed it. She could not exactly carry a glass around the house like a regular human.

Alphonse, meanwhile, took over the task of washing the plates, and Ed joined by drying them.

Hughes made brief eye contact with Mustang to communicate something—Bunny was not sure what—while Gracia spoke, less inclined to reject the assistance than her husband, “Thank you, boys, we appreciate it.”

“No problem, Mrs. Hughes,” Al responded, as he began working on the silverware, trying to get them clean with a rag and inspecting them visually. He could not actually feel if there was any grime left, so he had to look things over and see if he registered any sort of film or not. If there was and he happened to miss it, Ed would quietly return the item to be washed a second time. Seeing a suit of armor in a domestic setting cleaning dishes could be very jarring, although it was an everyday occurrence for the three.

Nina hopped out of her seat, “I gonna play with Bear!” She declared, before running over to the chimera and patting her on the front leg as far up as she could reach, which was not very far at all, even if the child had gotten bigger since Bunny had last seen her. “Come on,” She then dashed into the living room. The chimera, given she had nothing valuable to contribute, proceeded to follow.

Playing with small human children was not like playing with canines. When playing with particularly tiny dogs, Bunny had to be extremely careful not to overwhelm them in any way, but nipping and jaw sparring was acceptable along with chasing, so long as she did not exert too much pressure to cause bruising or break the skin. Even then, plenty of dog owners were skeptical about letting their pets play with her, given she could pick them up in her mouth like a chew toy. Even if they smelled canine, it was possible for them to register to some individuals with particularly strong prey drives as something to be pursued like quarry. In large meetings with multiple dogs, Bunny often found most of her time was spent policing bigger dogs and trying to keep them from harming more vulnerable or timid ones.

Playing with human youths was more difficult than playing with small dogs. People liked to grab at a dog’s face during play and move their hands around while their pet tried to catch them. It was usually easy to fool a dog to some extent and distract them from one hand with another, because of their tendency to focus on movement, and because humans were naturally good at tracking where the eye was focused. Bunny, however, was not nearly as distracted by movement, though she could pick it up in the corner of her vision, and had the same ability to follow a gaze. Smarter dogs would know to predict or otherwise guess at what the other hand they were not looking at was doing, but Bunny was far more precise at this due to human reasoning.

It was actually very hard to put a hand near Bunny’s face without her noticing before contact was made, so she had to deliberately let Nina get away with it.

Mostly, though, her difficulty was the fact that she had to grab Nina’s hands as a part of the game. Human skin was far more delicate than a fur pelt, and children were soft and felt very easy to hurt. She nipped with no pressure at all, and was hyper-aware of feeling a person’s hand through her teeth. When she was playing with children, it often brought to the forefront of her mind that she knew what human blood tasted like, and that it had not been hers. She knew what it felt like to bite down with enough strength to tear flesh, and the warmth of a fresh wound. Even though she had never bitten any single enemy with the full force of her jaw, she knew she could probably crush bones if she wished.

Bunny would not hurt someone who was not an enemy or who did not deserve it, but every day, she had to remember how strong she was physically, and how easily that could pose a threat to others, even if she possessed no harmful intent.

She deliberately ignored when Mustang came along with the others to watch and supervise, not wanting to think about whatever kind of judgement he would pass. Nina could get away with far more when she was dealing with Bunny, compared to another dog. She could mess with the chimera’s ears (Though she found it annoying) or put things over her face and eyes. If she wanted to put hair clips in Bunny’s fur, she was permitted to do so. The only thing that was not tolerated was a pair of scissors—the chimera had easily evaded the child the one time she wanted to play hairdresser.

Elicia was allowed to wander up, and by that point the game ended, switching to something friendlier for a two-year-old.

Mustang found that visiting his friend’s house while the Elric brothers and their chimeric companion were present was a surreal experience. He was relatively unsurprised by how well Bunny handled playing with Nina or Elicia; it seemed consistent with her usual behavior. She was extremely patient with children, so long as they did not physically hurt her (He had been certain that this was what allowed her to live with Fullmetal). What surprised him was actually his own subordinate, leaving him feeling oddly out of place in an environment where he usually felt welcome. This was amplified by the fact that Maes had given him a stern warning to behave and not intentionally rile the teenagers before he took his train. In spite of his general behavior, the man could be absolutely terrifying when it suited him, and the underlying threat of the warning had the Colonel flinching at things he was normally never bothered by.

Overall, Maes had been extremely disappointed by Mustang’s behavior, and had not sugarcoated his opinion. _‘They’re kids, Roy, and they can be impulsive and emotional, but they’re not stupid, and they’re going to remember how you treat them. Whatever you did, I don’t agree with it, because they’re scared and they don’t trust you, and I know you gave them a reason to feel that way. Because you’re my friend I won’t punch you over this, but I’m not going to make excuses for you, and I’m not going to let this continue, either. So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to come to the birthday party and my beloved daughters are going to have the time of their life, and you’re going to _watch_ and see how those three behave when you aren’t trying to terrorize them. You _will_ start treating them better, Roy.”_

So far, Fullmetal would glare at Mustang and choose whatever chair or sofa was furthest away from him, and the boys were oddly quiet in his presence; considering how often his subordinate raised his voice, it should have been pleasant, but it was not. The silence was uneasy and nervous, and it only added to the Colonel’s own anxiety. Bunny ate dog food and tensed up when he looked in her direction, clearly self-conscious, and it had been a struggle to keep conversations going at the table.

Mustang was no longer experiencing conflict where he butted heads with Fullmetal or his companions. Now, he was witnessing guarded silence and distrust, and _that_ made him more uncomfortable than he wanted to admit aloud. When yelling and screaming, or any sort of acting out was not an option, the three picked avoidance, interacting as little as possible. He could read people, and knew when someone was eating food not because they tasted it, but because they felt like they should to appear normal. It was even more obvious because when they talked to Maes, Gracia, or the girls, he could see how the boys would momentarily relax, in a way that they never did in his presence, normally.

He had not expected to find the brothers helping Gracia with cooking, and had been surprised again when they began moving to clean dishes after dinner without being asked. The politeness was jarring compared to what he knew. The knowing looks Maes sent him told him that _this_ was what his friend had wanted him to see.

He thought he knew his subordinate, and Alphonse and Bunny, but perhaps he had been wrong this whole time.

Later, Mustang was roped into conversation with Maes and Gracia in the living room, while Fullmetal bore the indignity of being forced to draw flowers by Nina surprisingly well; Mustang had to bite his tongue to avoid making a comment. Alphonse, meanwhile, gave Elicia piggyback rides, visible care not to let her get hurt by the sharper spikes on his armor. Bunny mostly acted as a giant pillow for the older child, seemingly content to lazily watch whatever emerged on the page from the girl’s crayons. This, too, felt alien, but he also thought he could understand why they engaged so easily, even with the Colonel in the same room. Children were far more open-minded than adults; they grabbed Fullmetal’s steel limbs without a hint of hesitation or fear, and did not fear Alphonse or Bunny for their appearances. They saw no threat or danger, did not recognize the trio’s abnormalities as strange.

Then bedtime came, and the peace ended, with Gracia and Hughes going to tuck the children into bed, leaving Mustang alone with the three in a setting where he had seemingly been stripped of authority. Fullmetal and Alphonse stared at him from across the room, before the elder sibling spoke, “I’m heading upstairs, Al, Bunny, you can stay down here if you want, but as long as _this guy,”_ He gestured with a finger at the Colonel, “Is down here, I don’t wanna be in the same room.” With that condemning statement, he turned and ascended to the second floor, where he disappeared.

That was quick.

Alphonse shifted, “Um…I think I’ll just go and read.” He awkwardly excused himself to go follow his brother, leaving only the chimera, who, like Mustang, watched the suit of armor vanish up the stairs. Bunny’s ears lowered momentarily, before they pricked forward again as she turned her attention back to him, dark eyes flashing in that alarming way that they sometimes did. Although it was possible to read dogs, the Colonel had mostly invested his time in learning how to read human faces and posture. It was much harder to determine what Bunny’s expressions meant, and she was more unpredictable than he would like to admit to himself. He did not entirely know what she was thinking.

He chose to speak first, “I take it you’re not going upstairs?” He forced an amused tone into his voice, but when the chimera kept staring, he got the distinct sense that she _knew_ he was faking it. Mustang wondered just how much she was aware of that she simply chose not to mention.

She sighed, “I just want to know if you think I’m pathetic or not. For eating dog food, for acting like one.”

“No,” He was able to answer easily, “I don’t think it’s fair, I think it’s horrible, but ‘pathetic’ isn’t a word I would ever use.” He was able to give a sincere smirk, then, even if it hurt a little because of the words that followed, “Not many people can say they’ve tossed a high-ranking military officer into the river and gotten away with it.” It wounded his pride terribly, but he did understand how it would be funny, after being forced to endure the constant references to it by his best friend over the phone. The humor was short-lived, though, “Is that what’s bothering you?” His expression became more serious.

“People like to think I’m not affected by stuff, because I act tough, like I just go along with things…but it’s not that easy. I was jealous of Ed and Al, because they could do something like dice a few tomatoes, and I couldn’t. Even though it’s fun, I still feel nervous when I play with Nina and Elicia, because they feel so, so fragile and if I did a single thing wrong they would get hurt.”

He thought this over, for a bit, before responding, “I know it’s not the same, but sometimes I worry that I’ll lose control of my flames and hurt someone. It’s strong alchemy, and I don’t think I _would_ when I’m always so careful, but because I’ve hurt people with it before, I still think about it. What you’re feeling is pretty normal.” It was a pretty personal confession, but it was pretty similar to her own troubles, and it was the best he could offer. He got the feeling that Bunny was not the sort to spread rumors or talk about people’s secrets behind their back.

A half-wag of the tail that he recognized as her form of laughter, however weak. “Normal…” Her tone was amused, if not slightly bitter, as if she did not quite believe it. “Well, I’ll head upstairs, then, night.” She turned to go, and he watched as she disappeared.

When she vanished, he sighed and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what had possessed him to reach out the way he had.

He could not find it in himself to regret it, but he felt dissatisfied, too, as if he had not done enough.

He had no way of knowing how significant his own words were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Meanwhile, in a hostess bar in Central)
> 
> Vanessa: You really don't talk that much, do you?
> 
> Vitale: *Slow blink*
> 
> Florian: Ah...sometimes he does...


	24. Trick of the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward, Alphonse, and Bunny deal with a troublesome guest, and Mustang deals with another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write and I somehow just went with whatever I thought of, so I hope everyone likes it. This chapter is special. It's a bit longer than usual, and also represents a major turning point in how the main protagonists and Mustang interact.
> 
> Regarding Mustang, he has been consistently portrayed as having been very abusive in the story, and only recently really figuring out that he might be doing something wrong. He is effectively a pseudo-parental figure, hence why I choose the angle I write from, and how the main three characters interact with him. I do not consider him irredeemable, however, in spite of what he has done. That does not mean people will easily forget his previous actions, or trust him the way they might if he had never done anything wrong in the first place. Additionally, I am not a person who believes that one person can 'change' someone else. Change comes from within, through personal desire and commitment. If Mustang redeems himself to the Elrics and Bunny, it will be because he recognizes his own mistakes and makes a conscious decision to not keep up the pattern.
> 
> Keep in mind, even in the manga, we can safely say that it is canon that he threatened Ed and his brother in the beginning of the story, and he was probably very scary. Although he never drops his tendencies to pick on Edward, he becomes someone who's more annoying or irritating than a presence that feels malicious by the time Ed is fifteen. That change would have occurred at some point over the three year timeskip. It would have occurred when Mustang figured out how to balance what is and isn't acceptable in his own behavior when dealing with the brothers. This was very difficult to write, because I personally like Mustang as a character, and it is also a type of writing I have never done before, but I felt that it was important.

One of the downsides of staying on a pull-out bed in the Hughes family living room was the fact that the moment someone else was awake in the household, Mustang was inevitably woken up as well. Gracia’s presence was not a terrible one to be woken by, given she would leave him alone until he had gotten his bearings. She passed by quietly, probably intent on making birthday breakfast for Elicia, and by extension Fullmetal, who would now be fourteen. No, what made his awakening unpleasant was not the lady of the household, but the eldest child. Mustang had no time to react before Nina came sailing through the air and landed on his stomach, knocking the air out of him. No matter how much training a soldier did to maintain their physical state, a blow to the gut _hurt_.

“Uncle Roy! Get up, get up! It’s sis’ birthday!” She then proceeded to whisper in a conspiratorial fashion, “-and big brother Ed.” She proceeded to go back to her regular volume, “Get up! Get up!”

“I’m up, I’m up!” He scrambled to rise off the cot before the birthday girl, who was peering at him and Nina from around the hallway’s corner, decided to follow her sister’s example. Elicia was only two and did not remember Mustang very well yet, but he would rather avoid her developing a habit of flopping onto him and rolling around. He was a well-known Colonel of the Amestrian military and a State Alchemist; not a father. Small children left him out of his element. When a flash of light told him that the _actual_ father of the two girls, rather than helping, had chosen to photograph his current predicament, he shot Maes a sleepy glare.

Maes merely grinned at him, “Good morning Roy!” He said in a sing-song voice, his expression the one he got when he wanted to cackle and was choosing to suppress it. The alchemist’s look would have translated into a silent threat of violence, which was never taken seriously. It was their routine, during which the doting family man would endlessly harass the single bachelor, and Mustang would be annoyed but would never wish for a different friend. It said a lot about how well they got along, that Maes actively encouraged his children to see the Colonel as an uncle, a family member rather than just a friend. This was in spite of the fact that Mustang considered himself relatively hopeless with family _anything._ His own family was far from traditional.

“Good morning, Maes,” The Colonel grumbled irately, while Nina proceeded to mess with his hair. He always wound up with it being a huge mess in the morning, so he sincerely doubted she could make it worse. She did not appear to have any scissors or hair accessories, so he had no reason to worry about the man holding a camera getting photographs so embarrassing they could be used as blackmail.

“Oh, don’t be a grouch, today’s a special day!”

Elicia walked up after their exchange, murmuring a sleepy, “Morning, Uncle Roy…” He was honestly under the impression that very young children were either full of energy or unconscious, but it seemed the youngest daughter was somewhat tired. It was her _birthday_, but she did not appear to share her sister’s hyperactive enthusiasm. Well, it was still early.

“Happy birthday, Elicia,” He told her, managing to put cheer into his voice and giving her a smile.

“It’s incredible how you can glare at me and then smile at my kids like that,” Maes commented, before both of them turned their attention to the metal clanking coming down the stairs. It was Alphonse, who would naturally be awake all the time. Fullmetal and Bunny could both still be sleeping, perhaps, but the younger Elric was probably eager to join the activity downstairs. Mustang tried not to envy the fact that Fullmetal and his companions had a private room and could naturally avoid being disturbed by small excitable children. “Morning, Al! Are Ed and Bunny up?”

Alphonse inclined his head slightly, “They are, they should be down in a bit,” he then turned his head slightly to look at Mustang, and jolted. There was a quiet snort from within the armor. “Uh…Colonel? You might want to…uh…fix your hair…” Although he knew for a fact that there was not a body with lungs inside, the younger Elric wheezed like he was trying not to laugh at something he found hilarious. He would have been convinced there was flesh and blood inside had he not seen beneath the helmet.

“My hair?” Mustang absently felt the top of his head and ran into a piece of plastic. _Oh no_. His expression became one of bewildered horror, “When did she get-”

Nina proceeded to _giggle_, like the little evil mastermind she was, “I hid ‘em in my pockets,” She looked up at her father, “It worked papa, your plan was great!” Elicia began laughing at roughly the same time, if not because it was funny to her personally, then because everyone else was doing so.

_Oh_, so Maes put her up to it, then. That must be why he had refrained from taking a picture despite the camera. The Colonel absently removed a sparkly gold clip from his hair, before giving his friend an evil look, “Putting your daughter up to evil deeds, Maes? Planning on passing trickery down the generations?” The sarcasm dripped from every word, and he forced any potential irritation down in favor of a raised brow.

“I have no idea what you mean,” The girl’s father cheerily responded, not caring that he had been caught.

Nina proceeded to tap Mustang on the shoulder, and he leaned so she could whisper in his ear, “Don’t worry, Uncle Roy, we’ll get papa back.” This child was a trickster in the making, and he had no idea if that was supposed to be a good thing or not. It seemed her personal goal was simply to cause chaos.

“Ah,” The Colonel straightened and picked Nina up, gently setting her down on the floor before standing, “That’s a wonderful idea. Perhaps we should invite Fullmetal and Alphonse as well. I’m sure they would like to pay Maes back for some of the embarrassing photos he’s no doubt taken.” Even if they clearly did not get along, Mustang doubted that the brothers would turn down such an opportunity. They had no doubt fallen victim to his camera, too.

Maes began looking nervous.

There was slightly diabolical laughter from the suit of armor. “That would be cruel, but Nina’s on the Colonel’s side it looks like, so…”

The Lieutenant Colonel threw up his arms, “Alright, alright! I won’t do it again! I surrender!”

Elicia piped up, “Big sis wins!” Her cheer was greeted by a high-five from her sister, as if the children had planned from the beginning to somehow beat their dad without even really trying. Mustang concluded that the girls would grow up to become terrors. They were not that old and already the one who was five was planning mischief, and no doubt Elicia would eagerly go along with whatever her adoptive sister was planning. Maes and Gracia would have their hands full in the future.

There was a sudden crash from upstairs, followed by Fullmetal giving a startled cry, and Bunny barking wildly. The sound of the door opening followed moments later, the alchemist emerging, mostly-dressed, though he was missing his black undercoat, “Uh, hey, Lieutenant Colonel, there’s a mouse in the guest room!” Bunny accompanied his statement with a series of affirmative barks. Or perhaps the chimera had inherited some of the dog-like tendencies to chase small creatures, and was running after it. That seemed likely given the clicking of claws upstairs. According to Hawkeye though, she was supposed to be part mouse, but perhaps that was irrelevant. It was probably not even the same species.

Maes looked horrified, “What!?”

Mustang smirked, “Scared of a mouse, Fullmetal?” He suppressed the urge to say _they’re your own kind, after all,_ and pick at his height. Trying to completely drop the teasing would be too much for him, and probably just unnerve everyone else. Messing with his subordinates was familiar, even comforting; he simply had to remind himself that he could go too far, and avoid doing so.

The teen shot him a glare. “I’m not scared of mice! It was crawling on the suitcase and I almost grabbed it by accident, like you wouldn’t freak out a bit over that.” He then took a deep breath and let it out, before he spoke more calmly, “We’ve gotten them at home in Resembool before, so we’ve had to deal with catching and releasing them. It’s not like every time you get a mouse it’s an infestation, they just get in somehow. Usually around winter, the cold brings ‘em in.”

“Mouse, eww…” Elicia wrinkled her nose with disgust, “Bad.”

Nina folded her arms, “Mice are cute.”

“Nuh-uh!” Her sister argued.

“Yeah they are.” The two proceeded to begin a back-and-forth while Bunny continued to presumably chase the small critter around the room upstairs, until there was a flash of blue light and it stopped. Fullmetal and Alphonse were the only ones who could see what was going on, and they seemed pleased with whatever they had just witnessed. There was a shift in the metal armor, and a satisfied glint in the elder brother’s eye.

“You know you’re really good at that.” Fullmetal said, although _what_ exactly he was referring to, Mustang was not sure. The two were obviously proud, though.

That had definitely been the light from a transmutation, but how Bunny used alchemy was mostly a mystery. The Colonel knew she could use healing a healing array, had _developed_ it, and apparently she was hopeless with transmuting metals or stone. At one point she had flash-transmuted water to dry out his glove in a fight, but otherwise, he had no idea what she was capable of. The brothers bragged on her skills, but the man seldom saw them in action, so when he leaned lightly, trying in vain to see whatever was happening in the guest room from where he was standing, Mustang hoped nobody noticed. She knew medical alchemy and how to evaporate water almost instantly. What other tricks did the chimera have up her sleeve?

Alphonse waved a hand dismissively, “I’ll get it.” He disappeared back into the room and after a bit of shuffling, reemerged, holding something with both hands

Maes cleared his throat, “You guys aren’t worried about anything?” He asked. The fact that Bunny had used alchemy and it was possible that at least his eldest daughter might figure it out.

Fullmetal looked in his direction, “Not really, Lieutenant Colonel. We’ve released mice before. Plus, it’s not like we don’t mess around with alchemy in the morning. Bunny’s a great help when it comes to getting people or animals where we want them.” The words came naturally, and he was completely relaxed when he spoke. A half-truth told so easily that it might as well have been what really happened. Whatever flash of light had occurred was an experiment by the brothers, and the chimera had merely given an assist. Mustang saw how his friend frowned, almost shocked by how easily the brothers were capable of deceit, knowing he knew what really happened and it was told to trick the girls.

It was always disturbing, when the Colonel was confronted with just how capable the boys were of telling lies. He had no idea where they had developed such skills, and one paranoid part of his brain that had been listening too much to Maes told him that somehow they had copied his own secretive behavior, his own ability to charm people without telling the truth. He knew, though, that the Elric brother’s tendency to hide things must have developed before they even met him. Perhaps when they met Bunny, and had to constantly keep up a façade, or perhaps when they had set out to commit the taboo.

It still felt wrong. Knowing the kind of people they were, lies felt at odds with their passionate, otherwise honest and sincere personalities.

Alphonse made his way down the stairs, and Mustang was able to get a better look at what he was holding.

A box made of wood, featuring no details beyond a lid that could be removed and holes for air. In striking contrast to Fullmetal’s tendency to add excessive details to his creations, even ones made quickly, Bunny had purely focused on the task it was needed for. What Mustang noticed, too, was that in spite of its simplicity, he could not make out a single transmutation mark that was indicative of it having been made hastily. He had thought Major Armstrong was the only person capable of smoothing out their creations so perfectly in such little time. Then he thought back to the rapid drying of his glove, and knew that Bunny’s style seemed to focus on quick, precise work, without anything flashy. She had the potential to go crazy with details and chose not to, but the lack of flaws was in its own way a form of showing off.

Maes frowned, “Wait, where did the wood for that come from?”

“The chair from upstairs. Sorry for destroying your furniture, Lieutenant Colonel.” Fullmetal fidgeted slightly, “We can fix it back the way it was before, but it was that or risk it coming downstairs.”

Nina walked up to Alphonse and looked at the box, “What are you gonna do with it now?”

“The mouse?” The suit of armor looked down at her, “I was going to go and release it somewhere. Central isn’t a great environment for mice, but we don’t want to kill it.”

“What about breakfast?” Gracia had emerged from the dining room and kitchen area.

“Oh, go ahead and eat without me. I’ll be fine.” It would probably be easier for Alphonse, Mustang realized, if he did not have to pretend to eat another meal. How did the three handle food getting inside the armor? It must be a pain. With his parting statement, the younger Elric sibling went over to the front door, opened it, and went outside, probably intent on going to a nearby park to release the rodent.

These kids were not suited to be soldiers. Mustang could not see them taking lives. They couldn’t even kill a mouse.

In Central City, a hostess bar was known to be frequented by military officials, closed during morning hours through midday, and then open in the evening and late through the night. Although people were inclined to think poorly of the women who worked in this place, it was a misconception that they offered anything beyond company and conversation. The majority of their clientele were men, perhaps a few rare women, but the primary reason that people went there was for the sake of having someone to talk to. Anyone who came there expecting something more would be asked to leave, and if they refused, they would be thrown out with the help of one of Madame Christmas’ two new hires, the only men working for the entire business.

During morning hours, while the bar was closed, their janitor (Who doubled as a cook) would go through the establishment, cleaning it until it met his own exceptionally high standards, which went well-beyond his job description. He would sweep and mop all of the dark wooden floors, and remove dust from the matching rail molding that ran along the dark cream walls, in addition to what accumulated on top of or in the grooves of cabinets. Anything that was made of wood in the business was spotless as if it had just been installed in the building. Following wooden fixtures, the green sofas and the decorative cloths on the low tables between them were treated for stains, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke that was left behind by patrons and the owner herself.

Plenty of people commented on how not only did the business look fantastic, but it even smelled fresher inside.

The janitor was a strange man, not very big or imposing, but his footsteps were inaudible, and he had the uncanny ability to sneak up on people without their knowledge. He moved swiftly and efficiently, in a graceful way that was simultaneously jarring when one considered how abruptly he would turn his head to look at things. In addition to the way he moved, he covered every part of his body, wearing a long cloak and even a sort of veil to hide his features. His fingers were hidden by strange gloves that bore metal claws, but in spite of the weaponry, he was so careful when he worked that he never left scratches on anything.

They knew he was dressed that way because he was a chimera.

Madame Christmas had taken a huge risk by hiring the janitor and his companion. Why she had done so remained a mystery, but some of the women were convinced it was partly because of their circumstances, and also because it was difficult, the more they interacted, to believe that the two were truly malicious. What they knew of Vitale, the janitor, and Florian, a cook who worked with Vitale in the kitchen, was at striking odds with their history, which they had been honest about from the beginning. A shocking amount of honesty, the sort that could only entail throwing yourself at the mercy of someone else.

That still did not prevent certain things from being unknown, though. It was for this reason that while Vitale was in the middle of trying to scrub away a particularly stubborn stain on one of the sofas, he was approached by one of the hostesses. She had long blonde hair that flowed in waves, and large blue eyes. Vanessa was, by many accounts, a beautiful woman, and normally she would greet people who were familiar with a hug or some sort of touch, a habit that formed from working with the bar’s clientele. This time, however, she kept a short distance and folded her hands behind her back. “Good morning, Vitale,” She said, knowing better than to try and hug the chimera. He had a clear aversion to touch.

His head swiveled around to look at her in a way that was unnatural for human anatomy, face hidden behind the black veil of cloth. There was a swish beneath his cloak that she believed was caused by a tail. “Good morning,” came the quiet murmur. Vanessa and many other girls would be lying if they said they did not love Vitale’s voice. He had a deep voice and a rich accent that sounded like he had come from an aristocratic family.

Then the moment of connection passed, an average greeting, and the strange janitor returned his attention to his work. Vitale was not a talkative individual, generally completing his work and then returning to his and Florian’s shared apartment when there was nothing else to be done. It seemed that he was uncomfortable in the presence of his coworkers, for whatever reason. Flirtatious comments were a force of habit when a lady worked as a hostess, which may have left the chimera feeling self-conscious. It was also possible, from the way he sometimes shrank in on himself, that he did not know how to handle the attention he received, which had grown positive the more time that had passed.

“Mind if I talk to you for a bit?” She asked, “I know you’re a bit of a neat-freak, so you don’t have to stop working.” She said it teasingly, although nobody, not even Vitale himself, would deny that she was exaggerating.

“Be my guest,” He responded, not dismissively, but not turning away from his work, either. He seemed far more relaxed than usual, perhaps because he had a task to focus on, and also, the bar was deserted. It was possible that he got overwhelmed easily with large groups of people.

“So, did the Madame tell you that Roy was in town? He’ll probably stop by in the near future.”

A thoughtful hum, “She did not, but I suspect she will when she wakes up later. I’ll be finishing up here and going back to bed until before my shift starts.” There were typically two groups of employees organized into shifts. There were people who worked at the bar’s opening, like Madame Christmas herself and Florian, and then midway through the shift, during the busiest hours, another group who would come to assist and then close the bar down. Vitale and Vanessa were the closing shift, which began late at night. The bar opened at one in the afternoon.

Vanessa turned her attention to a clock hanging on one wall, “How long does it usually take you to do this? I mean you usually go way beyond just cleaning up the floors and tables. You’re almost done, right?”

“Just checking for stains is the last part. At least three hours, you get faster the more you do it.” Vitale finished up with the one sofa he had been working on, and darted over to the next, moving lightly as he began looking it over for stains. He moved onto yet another when he found nothing to clean, the seats surrounding the final table. “You’ll have to pardon me moving about, Vanessa.”

She moved to follow him, watching as he worked, “So you just work here and go to bed, that’s it? You don’t have any hobbies?” As far as she could tell, he spent a large portion of his time fretting over cleanliness, Florian’s absent-mindedness, and other matters.

“I used to produce woodcuts in my spare time, but I don’t have any of the tools to do that currently. Plus, Florian, for all the skill he has with transmuting blades, is not someone I would trust with making my carving supplies.”

“Well, why don’t you go out and buy some, then? It’s not healthy to just work all the time and never take a break.” It looked like she had found something interesting to talk about. He definitely seemed more interested in the conversation when it was related to hobbies, and she was sure the process of his artwork would have him speaking with people more often. He was seemingly stressed on a constant basis over serious matters, too, so she was convinced he needed the distraction.

“I haven’t worked enough to save up for a full set of good supplies, but I will probably do that in another week or so.” He backed away from his work, gave it an appraising look, and then turned to her, “What about you? What are your hobbies?” He had yet to show any indication that he was uncomfortable and wanted to flee. Bad with crowds, then.

“I enjoy reading, personally. I like romance and mystery novels.” It was especially nice on a cold, rainy day to bundle up someplace warm in a comfortable chair and read for hours. Her answer probably sounded a bit stereotypical, but she read plenty of other things, too. She liked stories with strong female leads, especially considering in her line of work, she had dealt with some men being a bit too grabby or lewd for her liking. Of course with Florian and Vitale around, they had muscle to drive bad customers away, but Vanessa could not lose her temper over minor offenses, lest she damage the bar’s reputation.

Was it any wonder she was extremely satisfied when the main character of a story fought back?

Vitale hummed thoughtfully, “Good choices. I personally lean towards science fiction myself. Never thought I would become the subject of such a thing, though.”

_That_ earned a slightly guilty laugh, because the joke _was_ funny, but it was also a bit sad, too.

“Ah, see? Got you, there.” He had been _trying_ to make her laugh.

As they began exchanging the names and synopsis of various stories they had read in the past, Vanessa could not help but think that Vitale was quite normal. He had been altered through alchemy and had definitely been military in the past, but he felt like a regular person she might have met anywhere else. In spite of his predicament, he was able to somehow joke about his situation, even though she had little doubt that it was painful and caused him grief.

For now, she was content to have someone to talk about her favorite books with.

Edward had thought that a birthday party filled with young children would be enjoyable, given that he was relatively good at dealing with kids, and it was a fun occasion. He quickly found, though, that while he got along well with most of the guests, one of the parents that had arrived was infuriating. The Colonel’s special brand of harassment was surprisingly easy to tolerate, compared to the way she had treated him. In addition to calling him little—which he was _not_—she would talk down to him. She treated him like an idiot in general, brushed him off, and in a passive-aggressive fashion told him to go away multiple times, using his age as an excuse.

Ed knew that he was a minor. He had just turned fourteen, and he was not in denial over that basic information. What he took issue with, was the fact that he and Alphonse were traveling all around the East Area of Amestris on their own, fighting criminals and dealing with complex alchemic theory, and she still insisted on treating him like he did not know anything. This was in spite of the fact that it had been openly stated who he was. Although he would never admit anything positive about his conceited jerk of a commanding officer aloud, at least Mustang treated him like he was somewhat capable. Even if the rest of the civilian parents did not know everything and looked confused, they tried very hard to include him, and that alone warranted his respect

It was all spoiled by that one lady.

Although he really was trying his best not to let his irritation show, something must have clued Bunny off, because he found himself being herded away from the pack of children in the back yard and ushered towards the house. The only people inside were Gracia and one or two of the mothers who decided to keep her company in the kitchen; everyone else was sitting around foldable tables outside. Because of this, the hallway that led to the back door and the living room was empty, and there was a sense of peace, compared to the chatter of adults and shrieking children outside. Ed did not protest when Bunny decided to drag him away from the commotion, which said plenty about how much he probably needed to get away from it.

When they were safely in a corner of the living room, he leaned back against a wall, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of his own breathing. The silence was pleasant and helped him calm down. When he felt like the pressure in his chest had subsided enough for him to think clearly, he spoke, “Thanks…” He did not need to say what it was for. Stopping him from exploding in front of Elicia and Nina, proving his commanding officer he really _was_ incapable of controlling his temper when he needed to. Of course he would maintain some sort of composure on a mission, and lose it over something stupid.

“We both needed to get away from things for a bit. I was getting mad _watching_ that nonsense.”

He winced, “You heard that stuff, huh?” She had told him, ‘go play with your brother, you won’t be interested in our discussion.’ He nearly lost it, then and there. Ed loved Al and he did not mind the children, but way she had said it, the tone she had used, was far from friendly. She had basically told him to shut up and go away, and it had finally started getting to him, when she continuously tried to cut him off in conversations and _only_ him. It kept happening even when a few of the other parents, even her husband, tried to get her to stop and let him talk.

At the last line, he was positive that even _Mustang_ had been horrified, and it took a lot to make him lose that expressionless mask he wore. He finally got up and left because he knew if he stayed a moment longer, he was going to go off on her. Bunny was probably just making sure that _everything_ about the woman, from her face to her voice, was not in his immediate environment.

“Some people, Ed, are just…” She sighed and shook her head. “You know what? She’s not important. She doesn’t matter, and I know nobody else there believes you deserve to be treated that way. I’ll bet you now that we’re not within earshot, someone is gonna chew her out.”

They were interrupted by approaching footsteps within the house. Gracia was carrying a birthday cake with lit candles, one of them a gigantic wax number, and the other two women were holding various bags and boxes. “Ed, it’s good that you’re here. I need a favor. We missed a few presents on the table, can you carry them for us?” She asked.

“Sure thing,” He was plenty strong to pick up anything that was left over. “Bunny, you can get the door for ‘em. I’ll be out in a moment.” The chimera gave him an affirmative grumble and went to do as instructed, switching back to nonverbal communication easily. He smiled to himself when he heard one of the women exclaim how clever it was, that the dog could open doors. If she thought something as simple as messing with doors was somehow brilliant, she would be shocked to see the tricks that even most humans were not capable of doing.

He went and grabbed several large boxes—one of which was his, Al, and Bunny’s gift to Elicia—and carried them outside, walking over and placing them with the rest, on a blanket someone had rolled out on the lawn. At the table, the cake was sat down in front of Elicia. Hughes, of course, was weeping with joy, snapping ten thousand photos of his daughter’s second birthday. No doubt when he returned to work later, he would be tormenting the people in his office. “Look at my little girl, she’s two years old! That’s my princess!”

Edward proceeded to walk over so he could inevitably deal with singing happy birthday—in front of _Mustang_, although thankfully, the Colonel had to endure the same humiliation—but apparently he was moving too slowly, because Nina got out of her chair, grabbed his hand, and proceeded to make him run to keep up with her and avoid tripping. “Ed, come on! We gotta sing for ‘Licia” She notably dropped the first syllable of her adoptive sister’s name.

Coincidentally, he got put right next to Mustang, but standing directly next to Nina, and very close to Elicia, made it more bearable. “Fullmetal, nice of you to rejoin us,” The Colonel commented.

“Oh, shut up. I saved them a second trip to get the presents.” His ire, though, was a bit less than usual, because he was distracted by the sour look on the one lady’s face—Mrs. Lance, Lantz, Lace…something along those lines—and how she was very deliberately not looking in his direction. She had been smiling before, but she looked like someone had ruined the party for her, even as she was surrounded by tons of other people, including her daughter, who seemed perfectly happy.

Everyone sang happy birthday (except for Mrs. Lane(?)) and Elicia blew out the candles. Naturally, the birthday girl got the first slice of cake, and it was probably more than she could eat in a single sitting. She did not wait very long, though, before she wanted to go open her presents. Gracia picked her up, while her father got her plate of unfinished cake, and they brought her over to the tarp where the presents were. Although one part of Ed quietly contemplated that some gifts might not do well if they came in contact with food items, he quickly ignored it. Elicia was _two_, and anyone who got her something that could be easily ruined had not thought things through. Not many kids around that age were liable to treat their toys with much care.

As she began opening presents, she was gifted with a plush teddy bear almost the same size as her, followed by a cloth doll wearing a pink dress and crown with butterfly wings. One person gifted her a scarf that looked like it had been knitted by hand in a rainbow of colors, which she promptly wore. One bagged gift contained a large quantity of candy (Much to Hughes and Gracia’s well-hidden but still visible horror) alongside a bracelet with her name in delicate silver beads. One bag contained one of the really large boxes of a hundred or so different crayons, and two packs of construction paper.

Mustang’s gift was what Elicia got to first, and it was obvious because even though the wrapping was pastel colors, it still had a flame pattern. Of course the Colonel would choose a present decorated with flames. Ed wanted to laugh, because it was fitting and at the same time hilarious. The Flame Alchemist stuck to his namesake even at a children’s birthday party. He could tell by a few snickers that Hughes and his wife were thinking the exact same thing, but if Mustang felt embarrassed he did not let it show. Bunny, because her laughter translated into a wagging tail when it was genuine, did not have to suppress anything, and openly enjoyed Elicia’s excitement at the present from her Uncle Roy.

When she tore off the wrapping paper, it was a stuffed animal that Mustang had gifted her, shaped like a unicorn. It was obvious that the plush was well-made, and probably very expensive. The main body was made from rose minky fabric, which Ed personally knew was very soft, in addition to having the signature swirl-like direction of the individual fibers. The hooves, sewn to look cloven, were something reflective and silver, with little spots thrown in that reflected rainbow colors. The mane and tail of the unicorn were long, silky strands that looked convincingly like a real mane, and the same longer fabric was around the hooves, like proper tufts. The face was a smoother fabric, and the horn was a proper spiral shape, made from fabric that matched the hooves. The unicorn was not pure white, but a multitude of different shades of grey-blue, making it look dappled. The color was probably a measure to prevent stains from showing, if it got dirty. The eyes were thankfully made using embroidery, which was safe for children under the age of three.

Elicia was delighted, to say the least, “Pretty!” She exclaimed, hugging it tight.

Hughes patted his friend on the back, “You don’t hold back, Roy. Where’d you even find something like that?”

“I have my ways,” He responded.

Gracia picked up another box and set it in front of her daughter, a box with red wrapping paper decorated with contrasting blue flowers. “This is from Ed, Al, and Bunny,” She showed the tag to her daughter. “Bunny signed it, too, see?” A large smudge on the corner of the tag was clearly one or two of Bunny’s fingers, plus her claws. Because the chimera could not sign the card even using her initials without raising questions, they had settled for applying ink to her hand and having her step on it. Ed, Al, and Bunny all personally preferred calling her front limbs arms and hands, and it gave him an uncomfortable twist when people used terms that did not sound human, but he also knew he could not prevent it.

When Elicia opened her box, the three had also given her a stuffed animal. A plush crocodile, carefully made. The back was one of the most complex parts of it. It had pleats of fabric that produced bars like armored plates, in addition to four rows of fabric spikes to give it a rougher texture. The center two rows faded at the base of the tail, and the outer two on the back met near the end of the tail, where a single large ridge of ‘scales’ had been placed, mirroring how the actual reptiles looked. The whole entire plush was a deep, midnight blue, almost black, with extremely small scatters of silver dots, making it sparkle like a starry sky. Embroidered stars and constellations were all along its head and sides, done in a pale green thread that was almost white. The eyes were embroidered in bright cerulean blue, with black slit pupils, and the mouth’s interior was an amethyst purple.

It had taken them _ages_ to make, a project they had started soon after they had been invited to the party. Bunny had spent many of her insomniac nights, Edward knew, using her teeth to pull the needle through fabric and sew it, making painfully slow progress compared to someone with human hands. Al had worked on it instead of reading while everyone was asleep, and when Ed was unable to go to a library or research because of location, he would work on parts of the crocodile, too. It had been a team effort.

Elicia began tracing the patterns of constellations with chubby fingers, “Stars…” She murmured, seeming fascinated.

Hughes took a picture, and then watched his daughter for a moment, before looking at Edward and Alphonse, “So this is the big present you came up with, huh?”

“Normally we use alchemy when we make things out of fabric, but we felt like that would be cheating. We still know how to make sewing patterns, so we came up with one and did it by hand. We went with the crocodile because for the design it was easier to have a real-world reference, and it’s hard to sew fabrics like what the Colonel got because of all the hair and fibers. A reptile just made more sense. If you look at it really close, you can see who did what parts of it.” The younger brother explained.

Gracia looked at it and pointed at a spot on the tail, “So these must be yours then, Al? They’re pretty even, here.” Bunny’s were the messiest, although Ed knew, had she been using hands and not a bizarre combination of claws, arms, and teeth, they would have probably been perfect. It irked Edward a little, though, that Gracia automatically thought the neatest stitches came from his sibling.

Alphonse had an amused grin in his voice, even if the armor did not show it, “Actually, brother did those. Even if he really stinks at coming up with designs from scratch, he’s always been way better when it comes to fabrics and stitching. We just found out he’s good even without alchemy.”

Mustang hummed thoughtfully, “That’s unexpected,” He commented.

Ed huffed, “Alchemy is still awesome, but people insisted I avoid it.” He then cast his brother an evil eye, “And what’s that about my style, you got a problem with it?” What was it with people always picking at his designs? He had not minded the crocodile. Even though he could not add tons of spikes and skull-patterned fabrics with flames, or give it wings, it was a pretty cool animal to choose for the pattern. The giant lizards were pretty similar to dragons, so they met his criteria for being awesome. He had been more shocked when Bunny had suggested it in a list of options she could see working out well with their sewing skills, and not something more stereotypical, like a rabbit. The unused options were a frog and a turtle.

“I would _never,_ brother,” Clearly, Al was messing with him.

“As many people like to inform me, Fullmetal,” Mustang commented, “You’ve been known to go too far in your designs.” It was slow and teasing.

“It appeals to _someone_,” Ed argued back, feeling his temper simmer a little, but strangely, not feeling like he would explode, “And before you try to argue back, I _don’t_ mean just myself.” He had gotten into enough verbal sparring matches with the Colonel to know he would try to give some sort of line of that nature, so he beat him to it.

“To a minority, perhaps, but not society at large.” Of course he had a comeback anyway.

Bunny interrupted them with a loud grumble of annoyance.

The Colonel looked at her, and to Ed’s amazement, began talking to her like a person, not caring if anyone thought it was strange. “Are you taking Fullmetal’s side? I believe there are some complaints. Please explain.” He was actually including her in the debate? It was not like he was actually capable of understanding her. He still did not know her well enough to interpret whatever she was trying to say. It was surprising because while he had never been outright disrespectful to Bunny while she was pretending to be a dog, he had still refrained from talking to her the way Ed and his brother did, probably to remain dignified.

Hughes had already gone back to taking ten thousand photos, but every so often, glanced over at them with a strange sort of smile on his face.

Of course the lady—Ed still could not remember her name—decided to interrupt what probably would have been entertaining for the entire party, loudly complaining. “That dog is far too noisy. Someone needs to teach it to be quiet.” Of course, that _someone_ was Ed and Al. It seemed like someone had warned her not to continue picking at him and his brother, as the chimera had predicted, so she decided to attack Bunny because of her relation to him.

The crowd of children gathered around Elicia, fawning over her and her gifts, oblivious to the conflict, compared to the adults, who looked on in horror they were trying their best to hide.

Ed could feel himself about to snap, but before he could say anything, _Mustang_ turned to the lady with a stern expression on his face. “Bunny works with the Elrics as a _partner_, Mrs. Lore. She has fought against armed robbers, poachers, smugglers, and terrorists, yet she is amiable enough to be trusted with very small children, including infants. She has saved the lives of many people, and is responsible for unprecedented levels of support and appreciation for working dogs. I regard her as a trusted subordinate. You will not speak ill of her, _either.”_

The woman’s face grew red, but she did not try to argue.

Meanwhile, Edward was mentally reeling. _Either._ Had the _Colonel_ been the one to tell her off while they were inside? Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, went out of his way to defend Edward Elric? It went against everything he knew about the man, who as far as he had been concerned, was just using him to make himself look better, and otherwise considered his youngest subordinate to be a thorn in his side, nothing more. His fingers curled sporadically into fists, and his gaze was directed towards the ground, but he could not figure out if he wanted to attack the man for pretending he cared in a civilian setting, or if he was grateful, because maybe he did, and was just lousy at showing it.

_He’ll betray you if you let your guard down_, a voice in his head whispered.

Al rested a leather gauntlet on his shoulder, no doubt worried he would lash out while Elicia was still happily hugging her stuffed unicorn with one arm, and tracing constellations on the crocodile with the other. They _both_ mattered to the Hughes family, the Elrics and Bunny, and Mustang. Ed could not bring himself to destroy the peace that was somehow still prevailing.

Ed took a deep breath and let it out, and forced his shoulders to relax, as the fuming woman’s husband took her aside, and began discussing arrangements with another couple to leave their daughter with them, so that she could enjoy the party while her parents went home.

Alphonse and Edward were equally at a loss for words, until Mustang turned to them, “I believe you brought something for Nina as well?” He asked. He acted completely normal, but Ed knew what it was. He was giving them something to latch onto, a means of engaging conversation without destroying what was comfortable. Bunny walked over to the younger children who were calling her over, Elicia no doubt wanting to use the chimera as a massive pillow. The side of her foot, not a claw, grazed Mustang’s ankle as she passed, and if Ed had blinked he would have missed it.

“Yeah, we don’t want to overshadow the party, though.” He responded, feeling a bit numb, but managing to make himself at least appear normal. “We did use alchemy for that, but it’s kind of special. One part is made by hand, he other…well you’re gonna be here when she opens it, anyway, you’ll see why.”

“Considering Elicia’s gift, I’m very curious. What motivated you to choose stars as a design?”

Al spoke, then, “Elicia’s never been far from Central, so she’s probably never seen a night sky like what we saw every night in Resembool.” There was an unsaid ‘or Marais’ at the end of his statement. “We didn’t actually say what’s special about the little constellations, did we?”

“I don’t think so.”

“They’re phosphorescent thread, so they glow in the dark.” Ed responded, “We had a lot of drawings back home that were done using ink like that, and since it was only ever applied lightly, you actually couldn’t see it over a white background. They were art pieces that did tricks. We had thermal ink, too, where it would disappear at certain temperatures. We had to stick those near windows to make them do anything, though.”

“Roy!” Hughes interrupted the conversation, “Ed, Al, get over here, I want to get a picture of everyone!”

They were herded to where everyone was gathering around the birthday girl, and although Ed smiled, he was unable to shake the sense of confusion and numbness that left him disoriented. Flickers of memory of the back of a man with golden hair, as he turned his back and walked away forever, flashed behind his eyelids when he blinked. Mustang was not his father and never would be, which was why he could not understand _why_ he thought back to that moment.

But he did, and it replayed, over and over in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I actually use glowing ink on my own drawings, and a linocut artist uses thermal ink. She also apparently makes quilts and used glowing thread, which is how I got the ideas for this chapter.
> 
> Back to our script:
> 
> Hughes: *Looks at photo of daughters using Bunny like a pillow* That is just adorable.
> 
> Al: We used to do that when we were younger, too.
> 
> Bunny: It kinda knocks me out if I'm not occupied when people do that. Best rest I've ever gotten.
> 
> Ed: I don't know how. I mean it's not like we don't move a bit.
> 
> Bunny: When you hyperfocus for several hours straight reading, you're mostly immobile, Ed. If I wasn't watching the clock, you and Al both would miss meals.
> 
> Ed: As much as people pick at me about eating too much, you're pretty fussy about food, too.
> 
> Bunny: Keeping me from food when I'm hungry is an act of war and I will fight you.
> 
> Al, whispering to Hughes: They have more in common than you'd think.


	25. Admit That You Were Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving past what you have done means acknowledging the harm you caused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter, not-so-cute chapter, because this one digs very deep. From this point forward Mustang will be making an active effort to treat Ed, Al, and Bunny with respect, but you have to consider the main characters, here. How do they feel about all of this? It gets worse before it gets better, and this is the boiling point, the climax of Mustang's arc, I think (I don't even think I divide my stories into arcs consciously, but this is something).
> 
> I'm tempted to go into a gigantic analysis of the characters, but that would spoil what this chapter contains, so I won't. Just know this one is...woo, it was hard to write. I hope I did a good job of it.

After the guests had left Elicia’s birthday party and everyone finished cleaning up, it was a peaceful evening at the Hughes household. Elicia was playing with her new toys, and Nina was painting. The special gift that had been brought for her, as it turned out, was a palette that contained relatively large cakes of dried watercolor paints, alongside some store-bought brushes. The alchemy involved in making the paints, which was explained for everyone’s benefit, related to the synthesis of the actual pigments they contained, which even dry, were intense and vivid. Paints for young children had to be non-toxic, in case something was accidentally ingested, and that could not be ruled out for Elicia, especially. Professional paints with similar colors, apparently, often contained dangerous elements and chemicals; the sole reason this was still standard was that most adult artists knew of the risk and handled things accordingly. Apart from synthesis of child-safe pigments, the Elrics and Bunny had mixed the resulting powders with other ingredients by hand.

Nina was thrilled, to say the least, and Maes and Gracia had to have a small debate with her, to make her take off the felted scarf that had been the second part of her belated birthday before she ruined it. It resembled green vines and leaves, with blue flowers that matched her eyes. Given how it looked, if it was well-cared for, Nina could wear it even when she got older. It may have used a playful, childlike concept, but the end design was mature enough that a grown woman would have worn it eagerly.

The rest of the people in the house were engaged in various tasks, as the kids were currently entertaining themselves. Maes was busy ironing his uniform so that it had creases in the correct places and no wrinkles, since he had work the next day. Gracia was folding laundry, and vainly attempting to locate the missing twin on no less than three pairs of socks. The couple maintained a constant stream of idle chatter, working while keeping an eye on their children. Mustang participated, not currently having any issues with wrinkles in his uniform, but working with a tin of polish to remove scuffs on his shoes. Technically he did not have to be back in East City until the day after tomorrow, but it was possible for him to be called to Central Command at any given time, hence he had brought a change of uniform with him.

Alphonse and Fullmetal, meanwhile, were busy researching alchemical texts on a different sofa from the Colonel, and while occasionally the younger sibling would chime into the living room’s conversations with thoughts of his own, the elder brother did not. Edward was so focused on his current task that Mustang doubted he even registered the activity around him, and he would probably remain in such a state until he either ran out of reading material, or was forced by someone else to stop.

Bunny, who was unable to do anything more complex as long as the children were awake, had been left idle. Although she had happily interacted with all of the guests at the birthday party, it seemed as if that had drained her. She had fallen into a light doze, curled up on the floor in front of the brothers, with her body pressed against their feet while they worked. Mustang might have thought she would not feel comfortable falling asleep in front of the Hugheses, much less himself, but it appeared that whatever sense of safety she derived from close contact with the Elrics was sufficient that she could fall unconscious.

Mustang wondered if the brothers found it safe or not to wake her up. Because his alchemy worked at a distance, and he was given a safe tent to sleep in during the war, he was spared the memories of physically grappling with his enemies. The closest to violence he came when startled awake was pinching his fingers together, which was thankfully harmless so long as he took off his gloves. Although the meaning behind the motion was still no laughing matter, it was the reason for why Maes would permit him to sleep in a common area that was accessible to small children. It was similarly why he could take naps in his office around his subordinates without worrying if he would hurt them or not.

His musings were interrupted when Maes cleared his throat and spoke at a louder volume, “Well, it’s getting late. Nina, Elicia, my darling little girls! It’s time for bed,” At the announcement, the children began to whine, and Bunny opened one eye, blinking lazily, while Alphonse looked up from his book. Fullmetal remained focused on his own reading material, until his brother tapped him on the shoulder to alert him to the fact that he needed to rejoin the rest of the world. Everyone watched as Nina’s paints and Elicia’s toys were cleaned up, and the girls were taken away for their bedtime routine.

Like the night before, Mustang was left alone with the three teenagers, and he watched them quietly as he slowly set down his polishing cloth and the shoe he had been working on, feeling far more anxious than he thought he would, in anticipation of the brothers immediately trying to leave as they had done the day before.

They did not.

They slowly closed their books and set them down on the coffee table, and Bunny shifted so that she was sitting on her haunches instead. A long silence stretched without interruption. Mustang had spoken up during the birthday party in Edward’s defense, after trying not to lose his own temper as his subordinate was repeatedly insulted, and in Bunny’s, too, when it was decided that she presented an easier target. Watching them now, he realized that the concept of him actually saying something positive about them must have struck Fullmetal, especially, as so foreign that he was at a loss for words.

Deciding that trying to start some sort of banter might very well make Fullmetal grow angry and storm off, Mustang decided to say what needed to be said in private, so that it was clear he had nothing to gain from it. “You did well, today,” He commented. There were plenty of things it could have referred to. He could have said anything else, but it was the best he could come up with.

“We can defend ourselves, y’know,” He muttered quietly, not really looking at him directly. His hands clenched and relaxed in his lap repeatedly. He had probably meant for it to sound grudging, but the words held no venom, only something stunned and disoriented. “Not like you ever say anything nice, anyway. I bet you did it just to make yourself look good,” The last part sounded bitter. “Is that it? ‘I’m standing up for my little kid subordinate, look how nice I am’…are we a joke to you? Is that it? I’m _not _a half-pint shrimp, and I don’t need your help.” It almost seemed as if he were trying to stir up his own temper.

“In front of superiors, I certainly brag on you, but a random civilian has no influence on whether or not I receive a promotion.” He responded evenly, before falling silent to wait for some sort of answer. Nobody immediately said anything, and he could see the Elric brothers pondering the meaning behind his words, trying to find some sort of lie or deception. A part of Mustang was offended, angry, even, that they did not believe him, but his more rational side told him that he could not blame them for how they felt. He was reaping his reward for his past actions.

“There is no way,” A growl entered Fullmetal’s voice, anger finally flaring, “That a self-serving, conceited, egocentric person like you did something because you actually care about us. We worked for you for _two years_, Mustang,” He did not fail to notice the sudden disappearance of his rank, in favor of his surname, “And you were always down on us. I don’t believe you, so whatever you’re trying to start, just _stop.”_

Before anyone else could say anything, he abruptly stood up, and practically bolted up the stairs, the door to the guest room slamming shut audibly.

His words stung far more than Mustang thought they would, but he knew he deserved it.

An even tenser silence followed, where only Alphonse and Bunny remained. The suit of armor looked down at gloved gauntlets, and he seemed to be trembling faintly. In spite of the lack of a body, there were plenty of ways that the younger brother conveyed his emotions. Mustang was uncertain of whether he had developed such behaviors unconsciously for the purpose of communication, or if even with flesh and blood, Alphonse had been so expressive. He had never seen the kid in a human body, and inwardly, he cringed, thinking that while plenty of people probably hated not being able to see the boy’s face, it probably hurt the people who had known him before the accident far worse.

The leather hands curled into fists, and when he spoke, his voice was halting and unsure, “Brother…he’ll be okay…he just….you…” There was a sound like a halting breath, “He _needs_ time, Colonel…and…I don’t think he knows how to take what you did…I…don’t either…”

Mustang responded with a slight incline of his head, accepting Alphonse’s words. There was an ache inside his ribs.

At that, the armor slowly stood, “I… I think I’m gonna go upstairs…I’m not doing it because I’m trying to avoid you, but….I’m worried about brother.”

“Go ahead, Alphonse,” His voice came out sincere, rather than hurt, thankfully, and the boy quietly bid him goodnight before going up the stairs. This left him alone with only Bunny, and perhaps Maes whenever he finished tucking in his daughters, if his friend had some sort of paperwork that required him to stay awake longer into the night. It was not unusual for the Lieutenant Colonel to take advantage of the peace and quiet in the household, once his wife and children were asleep. Mustang turned his attention to the chimera, who was watching him with an intense scrutiny that made him want to shift uncomfortably, but he suppressed the urge, “Are you planning on going up, as well?” He asked.

“No,” She answered, “I can trust Ed and Al not to hurt each other, but considering that our opinions surrounding _you_, specifically, are different, I don’t need to be in the same space right now.” She closed her eyes and shifted her head in a rough approximation of a shrug, “It would probably make more sense if I felt the same way they did…but…I don’t.”

He was unable to fight feelings of guilt, upon hearing those words. He had no idea that he had been causing such a conflict, and as Bunny claimed, he likely deserved the same amount of hatred from her as what he was receiving from the Elrics. Instead, she was downstairs with him, having a conversation because she knew she would be seen as some sort of enemy right now. That was in spite of the fact that she had lived with the brothers for years, and as far as Mustang could tell, had always been on their side.

He sighed and leaned back against the sofa he was sitting on, staring at the ceiling, “I’m an idiot…”

“Congratulations,” The chimera spoke in an enthusiastic tone that almost managed to sound serious, but it had to be sarcastic, given the context. He shot her a flat look, a bit hurt by the lack of hesitation and passive-aggressiveness. He caught a flicker of an expression on her face that almost immediately vanished. Her teeth had been bared in a tense, wide grin that seemed more like a snarl, before the look had been replaced with a warm, canine smile. Had he not looked right then, he would have missed it, “If you’re sorry, Mustang, for the things you did that Ed tossed in your face, then that alone is a good thing, because I don’t think you were, before.” These words were sincere.

He had no idea if he was horrified or relieved, to have everything placed in the open, as if she had been aware of things all along. He did not know if he had stopped guarding his expressions, or if Bunny was just reading him that well. Both were equally terrifying prospects.

“You’re angry too, aren’t you?” He said it more like a statement. That would explain her reaction, the strange, gritted smile when she heard him berate himself. She might have known that he had caught her too quickly for her to change her face, but perhaps she had been hoping he would not acknowledge her slip. Maybe watching him wallow had annoyed her, tested her patience. She did not owe him any sort of comfort.

Her smile faded, becoming something more solemn, more _real_. A long period of silence fell over the two of them, before she finally said anything in response. “For two years, Mustang, I defended you, because I believed you were a better person than you appeared, and I still do. Because of that, though, Ed and Al looked at me like there was something wrong with me, like I was deluded. The sad part is, it doesn’t matter anymore if you’re doing something that suggests I was right, because you let things go for so long. No matter what you do from this point forward, nothing will ever prove that what I did or how I felt was anything other than sickness, because two years is too long.” She spoke evenly, calmly, even though he could feel the undercurrent of emotion.

Too long. _Far too long._

If he had thought outright rejection had been painful, knowing that someone he had harmed had looked up to him in spite of that, fully aware that it might be abnormal or wrong, was so much worse. For all the times Bunny had glared at him or disapproved of his actions, or even the time she had grown enraged and yelled, it had not been from a place of hatred. She had cared about the brothers, but she had also cared about the Colonel, for whatever reason. He knew he did not deserve that concern. He tried to prevent the three teenagers he’d taken under his command from forming some sort of connection, but it had happened anyway, so he had just hurt them, over and over.

Mustang felt a prickle of something slipping through his veins, like ice, but there was no needle. He felt light-headed, almost dizzy, but he knew he was not going to pass out. He felt sick.

He was unable to respond, because it was at that moment that Maes reappeared from the back hallway, “Alright, the kids have gone to bed and—hey…something happen?” His normally jovial expression became one of concern immediately, voice following suit. The chimera wore a look that was grim, her eyes void of their usual gleam. Mustang did not even want to know what his own face looked like, but he knew that his mask must have slipped.

Bunny glanced in the Lieutenant Colonel’s direction, “A little heart-to-heart, Hughes.” Her voice was casual, which made it all the more obvious that she had no intention of discussing the subject further. An ear flicked, “I’m heading upstairs, if there’s nothing else to talk about. Good night.” She looked between both of them as she bid them farewell, and slowly padded up the stairs, vanishing from sight. The Colonel did not notice the pointed, silent message she sent to his friend. Everything was still until they heard the quiet click of a door closing in the distance.

That left Mustang sitting on the sofa, feeling stunned, and strangely numb, and Maes trying to puzzle out why. A bit of time passed with neither of the men doing anything, before someone moved. His friend slowly walked over and sat down next to him, after a few moments. “I’m guessing she told you off, huh?” He asked. Perhaps out of respect for the fact that Mustang felt like he could actually break down, Maes very deliberately avoided looking directly at his face. “Must have been rough, you seem a bit out of it.”

The Colonel breathed out shakily, and put his head in his hands, trying to regain some sense of composure. He was supposed to be the Flame Alchemist, but he felt cold, “They _all _did, Maes.” His voice came out sounding too calm compared to how he felt inside. It felt like someone had scraped his heart raw, until it was hollow.

“You knew this wasn’t going to be easy, Roy. I would have stopped you sooner if I had known, but it’s gotten pretty bad.”

There was a slight, hysterical cough of laughter at that, which was as good as confirmation.

Maes did not comment on it, but instead, removed his glasses, polishing them on the shirt he was wearing. “You can’t give up, if you’re serious about this.”

“I don’t intend to.”

“Well, I’m not going to leave you here by yourself in this state, either.” Maes put his glasses back on his nose, “I’ll go and brew some of the tea that my lovely wife keeps for guests, and we can sit for a while. My case reports can wait that long. We’ll skip the alcohol for now.” In a very high shelf in the kitchen, far from the reach of curious young eyes, the Hughes family did keep a spare bottle of whiskey, but it was generally agreed upon that when people were in a depressed mood, drinking it was a poor choice.

Although Mustang was not an alcoholic, Maes knew by now that his demons could very well turn him into one, and if he drank alone, he would generally become intoxicated. For this reason, he made it a point to Mustang that he could be reached by phone at any time, even at a ridiculous hour of the night. It had been that way ever since the war, when he was so riddled with guilt that he was considering committing the very same taboo the Elrics had; in reality, he was just too afraid to put a bullet through his skull. When Hughes came to visit East City, it was not unusual for him to check and make sure no excess alcohol was on the premises, and urge Mustang to dispose of it if he found any. The alchemist had the common sense to know it was for his own good, and willingly complied. The Colonel was not as severe as some people, because he could still drink at a bar or with company and not have too much, but in private, he was less responsible, especially after particularly severe nightmares when he would eagerly take some sort of escape in a moment of weakness.

Really, Mustang had no idea what he had done in his life to deserve a friend who looked out for him the way Maes did. He did not want to know what state he would be in, without him. Possibly dead, or in prison, or perhaps just rotting somewhere, too broken to even function. He still felt horrible, but deep down, he was grateful. At least if he fell apart here, it was safe, with someone who might give him some sort of direction on what he should be doing next.

Tomorrow the birthday party would be over, and Roy Mustang would have to face his subordinates again, in spite of however they reacted today. He could not give up on what he had already set his mind to, no matter what opposition he faced. He could be a person worthy of whatever respect they still gave him, however small it was.

Just another day. And another, and another after that, however long it took. Maybe then, he would forgive himself, and the three people upstairs would believe he cared.

Because he _did._

Alphonse and Bunny watched each other quietly in the guest room. In spite of the turmoil that Edward had been dealing with, he had apparently hit the covers and crashed before Al had even gone upstairs. Whether or not it was because trying to be friendly the whole day during the party had left him drained, or because he just naturally needed far more sleep to function correctly, was uncertain. Al often worried about both, considering his brother was not particularly social to begin with, and falling asleep as he did was usually indicative of something being wrong. The same applied to the fact that Ed was abnormally short for his age, officially; his growth was behind without any apparent medical cause.

He hoped that his brother falling asleep was a good thing, that Edward had just accepted the Colonel’s actions, whether as sincere or some sort of nonsense, and was no longer agonizing over trying to figure out how he felt about it.

For Alphonse, he was not quite sure what to think. In his metal body, any physical reaction associated with emotions, whether good or bad, was nonexistent, so how he experienced everything was almost muted, in its intensity. He knew he had been shocked, because as indirect as the Colonel had been, he had effectively said he had helped because he could. He had nothing to gain by standing up for them. Al was not sure if it was an effort at manipulation, or a real effort to be nicer; he seemed to have stopped making threats a few months ago, but this was the first time there had been an active change, an addition to what his brother’s commanding officer normally did. Mostly, he was afraid of getting his hopes up and having them crushed.

Al had no idea what Bunny had talked with the Colonel about, except that she had not immediately followed him up after he left. He felt bad, though, because he knew that a part of why she might have waited was because at least in the moments immediately after Ed snapped, she did not feel like she belonged. Alphonse did not have a heart to clench painfully in his chest, or a body that would go numb, but he probably would have felt something like that, if he did. Bunny had been through a lot of horrible things, and in its own messed-up way, it made sense that she might like the Colonel. She had dealt with one person after another abandoning her at the orphanage, caretakers who never seemed invested in her. It made sense that once she found someone who had been consistent, no matter how awful, she would bond with him even though he did not treat her fairly. Al would have thought that between him and Ed, she would not be as susceptible to something like that, but he also knew he and his brother were not adults. They were kids, no matter how much his sibling protested they were not.

It made sense that Bunny would bond with an adult who, in spite of how horrid he was, protected her from people who would have seen her thrown in a cage or reduced to an experiment. The only reason Al had been immune to something similar was probably because he had committed a crime to wind up in his current body, while she was blameless.

When he inspected her features, Al thought there was something strangely peaceful in her expression, as if tension he had never noticed before was suddenly gone. “Did you talk with the Colonel?” He finally asked, from where he was sitting on the re-transmuted wood from the chair she had used to trap a mouse that very morning.

“I did,” She answered, her tone sounding as relaxed as she appeared, “I feel like I can breathe again. Are _you_ okay, Al?” He might have thought that Bunny would have been elated, but instead, she was calm, and as always, was fully aware that how she felt was not the same for him or his brother. She was concerned.

He contemplated her question for a moment, before he hummed in affirmation, “Yeah…I was surprised, but…I think I’m okay…” He _was._ Even if the Colonel was lying, he was hesitant to trust the man, anyway. If he was telling the truth, Al would accept it, because ultimately it would make life easier. He continued, “Brother fell asleep before I even got here, though. He didn’t even change.” Edward was sprawled on top of the bed, not even under the covers, still in his trousers, black jacket, and undershirt. He still had his socks and gloves on; the only thing he had bothered to remove was his platform shoes. His expression was not quite happy or angelic, but his face was relaxed, calmer than it ever appeared when he was awake. One of his bad habits had crept up, too. He had somehow pulled his shirt up, and a hand rested on his exposed abdomen.

“I noticed,” There was humor and fondness in Bunny’s voice. “I guess everything today wore him out.”

“-And now he’s sleeping with his stomach showing. He’s so embarrassing.”

“I really don’t know why that’s embarrassing for you, considering we’re in a private place. If we’re in public, I mean sure, but…”

“I don’t know it just…it looks _wrong.”_

Bunny wagged her tail a little, which told Al she was laughing at him, “Okay,” She responded, “You worry about him exposing his stomach, _I’ll_ give him grief for not checking over his automail. Winry will kill me if I don’t. We barely slide by with all the dents he keeps getting in it, without skipping oiling or polish.” Most people who had automail could go for months with their prosthetics looking pristine, but Ed’s arm and leg, when someone looked at them, had enough superficial damage to look much older than they really were. He should have needed constant modifications at his age, to account for growth and changes in his frame, but that was perhaps one of the few benefits of him not increasing rapidly in height.

“We owe her another phone call soon, don’t we?” Alphonse asked. It had been a while, and in all sincerity, were it not for Bunny getting them into a habit of calling regularly, they probably would have gone months without contacting anyone in Resembool. It was a good thing, though, because Winry worried a lot less knowing they contacted her more often, and Al could tease his brother. Ed seemed to have a small crush, and it was getting worse the older they got. It was honestly adorable, because his brother was oblivious, and whenever the topic of romance was brought up, he would turn into a blushing mess (perhaps _denial_ was a better word).

“We gonna make fun of Ed again?” Bunny asked. Were he not asleep, neither of them would have dared to plot within hearing range.

“Oh, you _know_ it.”

“You know it works both ways, right? When you meet someone you like, Ed and I gonna tease you.”

“You _wouldn’t,” _Al gasped in mock horror, even though he had no lungs.

“Oh, but I _would_.”

Al had to suppress the urge to burst into laughter loud enough that it would probably wake his brother, and silently envied that Bunny could get away with wagging her tail. She seemed to recognize this, and gave him a period of silence so that he could compose himself. After that, they simply watched each other for a while, the quiet peaceful, pleasant, even, “Hey Bunny?”

“…Yeah?”

“If you ever find someone you like, brother and I are gonna prank ‘em.”

“Oh, so it’s pranking my date, not teasing me?” Her cheerful expression gained the slightest shift that looked forced, although when he looked closely, he could not quite pinpoint how he knew. Anyone else would have thought nothing of it, but Al had been reading her for years, and knew every little movement of her brow and lips, the twitch of her ears and tail. It came with the territory of communicating without words out of necessity.

“Bunny…you deserve someone who makes you happy.” He told her, his voice calmer, more serious. “I want you to be happy.” He knew that she had trouble believing that her body could be restored, and it was difficult for him to understand. She had so much faith that he and his brother would succeed in restoring theirs, but never seemed convinced that the same could happen for her. Although there were times when she seemed down or frustrated, Al did not think she was depressed, in spite of her current state, which in some ways was worse than his own; at least he still passed as human. Bunny was frequently happy, even content, but whenever he brought up what she thought was impossible, he would see pain flicker across her features. He wanted, more than anything, to convince her that it _was_ possible, but he had reason to believe he had never succeeded.

Perhaps that was how she coped. She could envision a better life for herself even if she remained in the form of a dog forever. She seemed reluctant…no…_terrified_…of hoping for anything more. Perhaps she had been let down too many times.

Even so, she gave Al a smile that was filled with warmth, and hid her pain away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, the meeting we've all been waiting for, the newly-reformed Marionette Alchemist trying not to get arrested. Asking you guys honestly, do you want Mustang to have this meeting alone, or would it be more entertaining if Hughes went, too? It does entail Hughes officially meeting the information network his friend has, which he is currently not aware of.
> 
> SCRIPT:
> 
> (Breakfast the next day)
> 
> Ed: *Pointedly doesn't look at Mustang*
> 
> Al: So...Colonel, where are you going after this?
> 
> Mustang: I have a relative in Central I plan on visiting. They'd probably kill me if I didn't visit.
> 
> Ed: Hmph. Sounds like a scary relative.
> 
> Mustang: I wouldn't exactly say that...but making them mad is not a good idea.


	26. Before The Yawning Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A warning is given

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got very long, and I hope I did it right. When I get a large number of characters together it can be hard to write them when they are established, but not well-known. I did my best.
> 
> Also, some of FMA's original plot gets broken here by information that Florian and Vitale relay to Mustang and Hughes. The original cause of death for Hughes was related to looking into the people who destroyed Fifth Laboratory, and then confronting people over what he learned. This will likely prevent his death and also alter the course of a lot of other stuff, too.

Bunny was a person who considered herself to be extremely self-aware, constantly analyzing and classifying her thoughts and behaviors as a means of personal understanding, and as a method for reigning in strong emotions. Just as she applied her thought process to herself, however, she did the same for other people. Individuals who had been around her long enough, like the brothers, Mustang, or Hughes (Though they made up quite a large chunk of her social circle) would probably have a creeping suspicion that she saw through them, but the thing was, they had no idea just how much she knew. She had always been skilled at keeping her mouth shut when it was necessary, and never letting information slip if it was important; much of the chimera’s knowledge was shrouded in secrecy, and she preferred to keep it that way. Information was a powerful thing, and people who were similar to herself would become incredibly guarded, if she let too much slip. This primarily applied to Hughes or Mustang, because of their methods of approaching people.

Maes Hughes had a sincere love for his family; Bunny knew there had to be truth to his obsessive love for his wife and daughters, because it could not be a perfect ruse as much as he did it. What she knew for certain was that there was an element of manipulation, a façade behind some of the times that he pulled out his wallet full of photographs. It was hard to take a person seriously when they were gushing over their loved ones, even breaking down into adoring tears at the drop of a hat. As a result, people failed to see when the investigator lowered their guard and was able to gather information about them. They let things slip because Hughes seemed nonthreatening, unaware that past his general demeanor he was paying close attention to every minute detail.

In some ways, though, Bunny admired Hughes, because often, his motives for such actions were truly selfless. He could pull people out of their own heads, which was always a good thing when you were surrounded by people who over-analyzed their own thoughts. He could be seen as annoying or irritating, but he brightened a room with his presence, to the point that you could never muster the desire to truly hate him. He tried to use information to help the people around him. He acted silly, but used it to make people happy, and for that, the chimera sincerely liked him.

In Bunny’s eyes, selflessness—_true _selflessness—was rare. Her background was one of false promises and charity done to appeal to the masses. Altruism, nothing at all to be gained, affected her far more than people realized, and she _remembered_.

Mustang was another person who had hidden depths, and what she had discovered about him would have been shocking to the people around him. She often wondered, though, why the Colonel never made a leap of logic that should have been common sense; perhaps because she never mentioned it. If he had, he would have been horrified to realize she knew.

Bunny’s sense of smell was the most powerful in the animal kingdom, a brown bear. She could track for an immense distance even smells that were supposed to be upwind, and could even detect things underwater to a certain depth. It told her plenty about _people_. She knew when someone was ill by the pheromones they gave off, when an injury was growing infected, and a myriad of other little things. It was how when a child in close proximity had a seizure, she knew it was about to happen and acted beforehand. It was when she alerted in a similar case around someone who was going into a hypoglycemic fit and needed to raise their glucose levels. A strong sense of smell was incredibly useful for medical things.

So when people seemingly failed to contemplate that Bunny knew about physical intimacy, it surprised her, a little. She knew _that_, too, as much as it made her uncomfortable having that information. It was personal, so she never talked about it; a human would not normally know, and it was not supposed to be her business _anyway_. It still regardless baffled her, when it was obvious how strong her nose was, yet they never suspected that she would probably know something about people’s activities. That, or they _did_, and the thought made them want to shrink into the earth or run for the hills.

From the very beginning, Bunny knew Mustang was not what he appeared, not entirely. Not the way people thought.

He might flirt with most of the unmarried women around him, and talk like he was some sort of playboy. He might keep a little black book that was apparently filled with women’s names and numbers, and treat it like it was a badge of pride; perhaps it still was in some way. The Colonel could build his image around the fact that he was seen as desirable to the females around him, and lord it over male members of the military. He might take anyone on a date, even a woman that was presumably already someone else’s girlfriend. Bunny met all of these behaviors with an eyeroll, and a level of acceptance that, honestly, Mustang should have at least found odd on some level.

As a person who kept a lot of things behind thick walls that people were not even aware of until they rammed right against them, Bunny respected Mustang and Hughes enough not to openly point out their illusions. She would not do it, even in private, unless they became open to giving information up themselves, or, in a far less pleasant case, they went too far picking at her own secrets, and they would have to push her _very far_ for her to resort to such tricks. Being analyzed was anathema for individuals who lived their lives keeping everyone, even their closest friends, at an arm’s length.

Bunny would know because she did the same thing to the boys, and they did not even know it, really. She talked about a lot of things with them, but she never talked about the truly ugly sides of herself that she would have shown to someone she trusted whole-heartedly; it was sad that even years later she did not entirely afford this status to the brothers. People who lived by a strong moral code, like Edward and Alphonse, or even Mustang, would have trouble understanding how Bunny felt about certain things. She did not even know if Hughes, who had probably seen plenty in his line of work, would understand.

When the chimera went downstairs at four in the morning, she saw that Maes Hughes was awake, clearly getting ready for work, even before his wife was up. Mustang was awake, too, and Bunny chalked it up to soldiers just being required by their profession to be early birds. The Colonel did not even have work today, but he was still up. She could smell coffee brewing in the percolator in the kitchen. It was still dark outside and the sun would probably not rise for at least another hour.

“Good morning Bunny,” Hughes greeted her, not acknowledging that she was awake at a strange hour. The answer was obvious, and dwelling on it would make it harder for her to fall asleep in the future due to anticipation. Any sleep, though nightmare-riddled, was better than none at all.

“Morning,” She had no trouble returning the gesture, given that the children would not be awake for another few hours, most likely. It was pleasant, to say the least. As much as Bunny liked Nina and Elicia, it was frustrating that the risk of them speaking about her existence outweighed the benefits of being able to communicate. When she met Edward and Alphonse, they had been old enough to keep a secret; a child below age ten was not so trustworthy.

“So, you and the boys are leaving today, right? Where are you headed to?” An immediate question that went beyond inquiries of wellness.

She hummed thoughtfully for a moment, the claws of her left hand drumming briefly on the floor, “I think it was Edmiritbu? Yeah, not very hard to get there, really. We can just take the trains.”

“So what’s there?”

“Another rumor about an alchemist performing miracles like healing injuries. We heard it on the way here. Considering how the last quack doctor we caught hurt a lot of people, we aren’t taking any chances.” That was, of course, a half-truth. The Lieutenant Colonel did not know that the Elric brothers were searching for a Philosopher’s Stone. If he did, it would bring him too close to wondering about their strange circumstances. Him being aware of the fact that Ed had two mechanical limbs was already risky enough. Bunny could only assume he was thrown off by her own presence; illegal research to help a chimera, leaving him less inclined to suspect a taboo.

“Roy? What about you?”

“I caught the phone ringing before you woke up last night. A relative of mine who lives here in Central called; I gave them your number in case they needed to get in contact with me, I hope you don’t mind. They told me to bring you with me when I go to visit them today. They live above a hostess bar, but it’s closed on Mondays. I think you would like to warn Gracia, though, just in case.” Bunny could see how visiting while the establishment was operating would cause problems. She was not ignorant; hostess bars were places that relied upon male customers being entertained by female staff.

Hughes frowned, “I didn’t know you had relatives here in Central.”

“Ah, yes…well…they normally don’t involve themselves that much with my friends and acquaintances.” Mustang looked a bit embarrassed. It was an expression that Bunny rarely saw independent of references to water in the man’s presence.

“Well, Roy, I will certainly have to tell my lovely wife, but I think I can make time to meet your family. I just can’t believe you never told me.” The light-hearted way Hughes spoke conveyed that, in spite of his surprise at what might have been some sort of secret that was kept from him, he held no hard feelings. Being friends with a person did not entail knowing their family history and all of their relatives.

Bunny hummed thoughtfully, “Looks like you’ve got an interesting day planned.” She carefully chose not to acknowledge the awkward undertones of their conversation.

When the Colonel turned to her, she could sense his guilt even if his face did not show it. Some minute detail that she did not register consciously gave it away. She did not know if it was the tilt of his head or perhaps whatever tension he might carry in his back or shoulders; something subtle. Mustang was always a person who carried some amount of stress visible in his posture, no matter how relaxed or carefree he appeared to others. “I imagine you’re sick of traveling on trains by now.”

“I don’t know that I’d hate trains if the situation were different. If it’s a clean, quiet car I can actually fall asleep and just pass the ride that way. I just don’t like when we get one that’s really dirty or crowded…but…that’s probably no different from anyone else. The problem is you can’t expect animals to stay in their respective booths like humans do.”

“That seems fair, I suppose.”

Bunny’s ear twitched, “Gracia’s up.”

Hughes frowned, “She is?”

“Well they’re too heavy for it to be Nina or Elicia…” The footsteps were loud enough to match those of an adult.

“Are you picking at my beautiful, angelic wife’s weight, Bunny?” His expression became intense.

She had no idea how to respond to that, and her mind briefly went blank. “What?” There were many things a person could say that could potentially surprise her, but this was perhaps the most bizarre. The Lieutenant Colonel had a true talent for turning a serious moment into…whatever this was. The problem was she could not tell if he was doing it to lighten the mood, or if this was one of his authentic moments.

He continued, though, regardless of her confusion, “I hope not, because Gracia is the most perfect woman in the world,” He abruptly slung his arm around Mustang’s shoulders, “Roy, you need to get yourself a wife, too. I mean nobody could ever compare to mine, but if you’re really lucky, you’ll get someone half as amazing as she is!” When the most perfect woman in the world appeared, blinking sleepily and wearing slippers, he greeted her enthusiastically, “Good morning, Gracia!”

“Morning, Maes…” She murmured drowsily. As used to her husband’s antics as she was, she did not seem even remotely surprised by the scene before her. Hughes had his best friend almost trapped with one arm, and Mustang looked visibly annoyed. There was a noise from the kitchen, indicating that the coffee had finished brewing. A sweet gesture; Hughes timed the brewing of the coffee perfectly so that it was ready right as Gracia was ready to drink some.

Bunny was able to break away from the cloud of mental confusion when Mustang made a rather-undignified strangled sound, and ducked out of Hughes’ grasp, abandoning all sense of decorum and escaping into the kitchen before he could be snared a second time. Hughes proceeded to give his wife a chaste kiss, before strolling after the Colonel, undeterred. Perhaps the greatest signs of friendship between people was the fact that they could abandon all sense of decorum around each other, and still not be thought lesser. It was _normal_.

She wondered what it felt like to imagine this as constant, to not see it as a temporary thing that could be snatched away at any moment.

_…Later that evening…_

Maes Hughes was not the sort of man to visit a hostess bar, and had never thought he would ever do so in his lifetime, especially when there was no woman who could ever compare to his wife. He would never betray Gracia, and although Roy was trying very hard to prevent him from feeling uncomfortable—even going so far as to knock on the door of a back entrance—he felt out of place. Roy was the person who openly dated multiple women and seemed not to care about being in a committed relationship, and he frequented bars like this one. He knew these people, far more than Hughes did, and showed almost no discomfort at all in a district that was known for more questionable establishments.

The only uneasiness Roy displayed seemed to be in relation to bringing his best friend with him, and Hughes knew that was entirely his own fault. He was a true family man by anyone’s standards, so he would have frowned upon Roy coming to a place like this, even if he knew that the women who worked here were only obligated to pour a drink and spend time with patrons. They were hostesses only, but that did not stop people from drawing comparisons to less respectable professions. Hughes was uncertain if he was judging the workers, specifically, or the fact that there were enough people to warrant such a business existing. He certainly felt unpleasant coming here, as if he were doing something wrong. He knew that it was horrible, because the women here were probably nice people, and likely received enough negative attention for their line of work already.

Hughes wondered if being judged for his family was why Roy never told him about his aunt. It was clear that he had a good relationship with her, because he visited her every time he came to Central. He only told him when it was just the two of them, when Bunny was not listening. Roy’s aunt did not just live above a hostess bar, she was the owner of the establishment and the entire building. The people who rented the apartments above the bar consisted almost entirely of her own workers.

Hughes barely suppressed the impulse to jump when the door was answered by a beautiful woman (Though nothing like Gracia), with wavy blond hair and large blue eyes. She was dressed somewhat revealingly, though nothing outlandish, and her eyes glittered with enthusiasm when she saw Roy. “Roy! Welcome back!” She threw her arms around his neck, and he smiled back at her, though he notably did not return the affection.

“Vanessa, good to see you.” It was a greeting between two people who were obviously familiar, and distinctly lacking in any sort of romantic intent. Perhaps his friend avoided dating the women at this bar, since they were his aunt’s employees, and it would have caused unnecessary pressure, knowing he was their boss’ nephew. Roy might have known these people for years, for all he knew. It stung, slightly, that he had never told Hughes, but he also understood that Roy had many enemies, and he wanted to avoid drawing attention to his relatives. He straightened when Roy gestured to him, “This is Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. Madame Christmas asked me to bring him with me.”

There was a brief moment where Vanessa’s eyes glanced at his hand, and spotted his wedding band. She smiled at him, but folded her arms behind her back, and there was something tense and serious behind the expression, “Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Colonel.” She then turned and began to walk away, waving for them to follow, “Come on, the bar is closed, but that doesn’t mean we want to let in flies or something.” Her demeanor became significantly less bubbly, and Hughes got the impression that she was trying to respect what might have been obvious discomfort by dropping her hostess persona—she must be one of the workers, but she was not trying to flirt with him.

She led them through a hallway into a rather cozy-looking bar with blinds and curtains that completely shut out the world that would have otherwise been visible through the windows. A heavier woman with gold jewelry and pearls around her neck was smoking a cigarette while sitting on one of the green sofas in the dining area. Her coat was trimmed with fur and she wore a low-cut dress. Her presence alone was enough for Hughes to immediately tell who she was. This must be Roy’s aunt, the Madame, if that was what everyone was calling her. She radiated the same kind of confidence that his friend did during negotiations, but if Roy seemed amused in his dealings, the look that Madame Christmas sent Hughes was more like a bird of prey.

His friend greeted her, “Hello, Madame Christmas,” It was strange, to Hughes, that Roy referred to his aunt in a fashion that felt oddly formal. The corner of her lip twitched in a smile.

“Good to see you again, Roy-boy,” She spoke calmly, “I see you brought your friend. Good, we’ve got something important to discuss.” She eyed Hughes, “Knowing Roy you aren’t aware of why we brought you here. Too risky to talk over a phone.”

Hughes simply turned his attention to Roy, trying to figure out what he was not being told. The Colonel’s face had morphed into a frown, before realization bloomed across his features, “You don’t mean…”

“It was always a possibility we would have to tell your investigator friend. We’ve found out something that we can’t in good conscience withhold.” She turned her attention back to Hughes, and he found himself unconsciously straightening his posture. “Maes Hughes, you work as the head of Investigations here in Central, and you have plenty of your own enemies. People in the military don’t like their motives being questioned, even more so if they’ve got something to hide. What we have to share with you will be of great interest, and may possibly save your life in the future.”

“Roy, what is she talking about?” Hughes did not like the sound of this.

Roy had simply gone pale, and seemed at a loss of words; something very rare and very unnerving.

Madame Christmas continued, “You’ve probably been under the impression that every woman Roy-boy meets is a normal date. We regret to inform you that some of this is false.” She paused to let that sink in, before continuing, “This is a hostess bar, conveniently close to Command, and plenty of soldiers come here looking to unwind.” She blew a bit of smoke from her cigarette. “When they’ve had sufficient amounts of alcohol, they tend to let information, some of it rather personal, slip without intending to. We also have plenty of ladies throughout the city who work with us. When we find out something interesting, our girls arrange dates with Roy-boy and pass it on.”

“An _information network?”_ Hughes turned to his friend, “Roy, you never told me.” Not only a network of people completely unaffiliated with the Lieutenant Colonel’s own resources or the military, but entirely secret, even from people who knew Roy extremely well. _This_ was what all of the dates were? His mind was reeling. How many of the women had been normal dates, and how many had simply been using outings as a cover for when they passed along information? It drastically changed the meaning behind so much of what Hughes had always worried about, but he was not even sure if he liked the alternative.

Roy’s dates were not girlfriends, they were informants. He had built himself up to be a person who constantly lured women into his bed, when he probably never so much as laid a finger on them—even if he still did, it might be far less than Hughes had thought. Yet he had let people believe that, even his best friend.

Hughes felt upset, lied to, but he felt so incredibly _guilty_, as well.

“Madame Christmas and the girls are very efficient in their work, and I wanted to keep their involvement with me a secret for safety reasons. Nobody is going to tell them anything if they think that the information is being actively shared, rather than kept secret. Technically they should know better; there isn’t a confidentiality agreement that you sign when you visit places like this, nor is there anything similar for a random person you choose to flirt with at a flower stand. If you spill military secrets or personal information to the wrong person without some sort of legal protection, you’re allowing it to be used. I also don’t want people going after my information network, so it’s easier to say I’m dating them.” Mustang answered, not quite meeting his gaze.

Hughes swallowed down the frustration; it made sense, and he would have gone digging, had he known. To really make his illusion believable, Roy had allowed everyone to be fooled, no matter how close, and built an entire persona around it. He was truly dedicated to his goal; it just hurt that his friend had not trusted Hughes enough to tell him. He would have worried far less, had he known. Roy’s dating habits had always worried him, because to Hughes, Roy was the sort of person who needed true commitment. He needed someone who would consistently stand by his side, not a person who would disappear as quickly as they came. “Well, alright then. It’s a shock…but…we can talk about this later.” He did not miss the way Roy flinched.

Hughes was unable to remain angry. He turned back to Madame Christmas, “What is it you wanted to talk about?”

“The military’s been crossing humans with animals, and they’ve also made something even more dangerous. Don’t look into this information using your own resources, because if the wrong people find out you have any knowledge at all, they’ll kill you to keep it a secret.” The Madame’s face became grave, and Roy’s face was now so pale that it was almost ghostly. Vanessa took him by the arm and led him over to a sofa to sit down. Hughes inwardly thought it was a good idea, because while Roy might not faint, he definitely seemed like he might be weak in the knees. He offered no resistance.

Hughes sat next to him, wondering how the informants, civilians, had ever found out something so dangerous. It was the same conspiracy Bunny had warned them about, and hearing it from a separate source simply confirmed it. Something _worse_, however, than turning people into chimeras? He felt sick at the prospect of what could count as even more horrific or lethal. Hughes did not dare call human chimeras monsters, because that would be unfair to people like Bunny, and it was not their fault, but at what point was something truly a monster? Had the military succeeded in making a real one?

Roy’s voice trembled when he spoke, an unsteady waver as he tried to recover from the anxiety of what might very well be realizing that his family, now, was in danger. Hughes would not be surprised if he had kept Bunny and the conspiracy a secret. He had already known about the chimeras, but these people might have heard something completely new. “How did you find out?” He asked.

The Madame’s face became unreadable, as she blew another wisp of smoke, “You already knew some of this, but we’ll discuss that later. That’s why I asked you to bring your investigator friend. What we’ve found out is something that changes how we normally view business. Generally, we’re good, law-abiding citizens, but the news we’ve gotten warrants something that would count as treason. Roy, you and your friend are going to have to agree to keep quiet to your superiors. Can you do that? I’m not going to tell you anything until you say you will.”

_Treason?_ Hughes saw Roy grit his teeth, “Alright…_who told you?”_

“Not until both of you agree to keep _silent._” Christmas’ voice took on a stern edge, and Roy immediately slumped back into the sofa. It was the same sort of compliance that would have been seen from a child who dare not argue with a parent. He gave a slight nod, and Hughes, not wanting to leave without knowing the situation, did the same. The Madame seemed appeased by this, “Good,” She approved.

She tapped some of the ashes off of her cigarette into a tray on the table, and gestured up at the ceiling, “Fugitives, two of them. _Special_ fugitives. You know one of them, Roy-boy, and apparently Elizabeth did a number on him. Got a limp that probably won’t ever go away.” Hughes knew that she was talking about Hawkeye, and the description was familiar in an unsettling way.

It took a moment for the words to register, before Roy grew visibly angry, “_Marionette…?”_ He knew better than to yell, so he hissed the name instead. _“Here?”_

His aunt was unfazed by the flare of temper, and watched him as he took a few deep breaths to get his rage under control, before she spoke. “There were certain circumstances that I took into consideration before I made my decision to take him in. He’s been working as one of our cooks. He’s a bit awkward, but extremely aware. His friend works as a janitor and also acts as a cook. The bar has never looked more pristine. Both of them are watchful and try to ensure that problematic customers are dealt with. They’re a bit strange, but they fit in well, here.”

Hughes decided it would be best to remain silent while Roy sighed and rubbed his temples, “He’s a dangerous criminal, and if people find out you’ve been harboring him, then you’ll be arrested.” He was visibly stressing over this detail. “There better be a very good reason for why you’re deciding to do this.”

“There is,” She leaned forward in her seat, “Firstly, Roy-boy, I would have appreciated knowing that you were assisting your subordinate, Fullmetal, in hiding a failed chimera. I approve of it, because I know it isn’t the poor soul’s fault that they’re in that state, and victims of crime like that ought to be protected by the law, not persecuted. Even so, it puts you at risk. I know that you keep secrets, but it was a nasty feeling, learning this information from a rogue State Alchemist, when I could have been told by my own nephew.”

Roy swallowed as if his mouth had gone dry, and fisted his hands, “He saw her use alchemy, didn’t he?” There was a pause, “A failure?”

“Florian’s friend, Vitale, is also a chimera, though he cannot easily go in public. He is a ‘failed’ chimera, meaning he cannot maintain a human form. They could tell you more specific information, if you’re willing to hold a more civil discussion.”

“Owl and margay,” Hughes finally decided to speak up, “One of his feathers got left at the crime scene by accident. We had Bunny inspect a sample, because we wondered if it was possible. Ludwig hinted that he possessed knowledge of the chimera program. She confirmed it for us.”

“Unusual that she would know the scents of more exotic ones and pick them out individually. Your chimera has a good nose,” The Madame remarked. “Moving on, the military has created something that Vitale claims are not even chimeras. They look human but possess strange, seemingly supernatural abilities. I’m sure you’ve heard the old wives’ tale about animals sensing things humans can’t. He claims that he does not even think these creatures are human. Something about them was inherently wrong, even beyond what he saw them do.”

“Monsters, and we can’t even tell,” Roy murmured, looking haunted. It seemed this was the first time that Vanessa had heard any of this information, as well, because her eyes were wide with horror.

“The event that eventually led to me taking in Florian and Vitale is the destruction of the Swallow’s Song by two of these…creatures…whatever they are. Vitale says had he not taken precautions and fled immediately with Florian—who was unconscious due to his injuries—and continued moving for as long as he had, they likely would have been killed. These beings tracked the Swallow’s Song by smell, and proceeded to slaughter more than a hundred former soldiers who had served in combat roles. Two of them. No other assailants.”

Hughes was not sure which was more alarming, the knowledge that two living weapons were able to kill so many people who had likely been armed, or the fact that the Swallow’s Song had possessed that many members in a single base, when it was believed that they had more than one. The organization had been massive on a scale beyond estimates, and someone had finally decided to interfere.

Someone in the military who did not want to be seen openly.

“So why are they warning us?” Roy asked, still tense. “We went after Ludwig and tried to arrest him. My Lieutenant almost killed him. He’s taking an enormous risk, even if he’s coming forward with this kind of information.”

Madame Christmas smirked, “That should be obvious. Why don’t we head up and meet them?” She extinguished her cigarette in the ashtray and stood. “Vanessa, since you’ve listened to this meeting, you are welcome to come with us.”

“Yes, Madame.” She responded, still looking shaky.

“Let’s go.” She waved them back through a hallway in the back, and Hughes followed, half-tempted to withdraw one of the knives he carried under his sleeves. He knew, though, that any sort of violence was what Madame Christmas was trying to avoid, by not letting them meet Ludwig or his friend, Vitale, before explaining the situation. Even so, Marionette was considered incredibly dangerous, and he knew that a chimera was much stronger than a human. He already knew how dangerous Roy’s flames were. A fight would be incredibly ugly, if it occurred.

Alchemists would be the death of him, Hughes was convinced. He could feel the years being shaved off of his lifespan. It had already been freakish knowing his friend could burn things with a snap of his fingers, but it had become so much worse ever since the arrest of Shou Tucker. Hughes had met his first daughter, and he cherished her, but how she had come into his life had been horrible. Someday, he would have to explain these things to her, and he was dreading it.

Now Roy’s aunt was sheltering a wanted fugitive, a rogue State Alchemist, right on the military’s doorstep, and he was apparently agreeing to keep all of this a secret and not arrest him.

The chimera…he had no idea how he should feel about it, as they ascended a flight of stairs. On one hand, this Vitale…he had aided a group of terrorists, but also, it was clear he could not live a normal life, from what Hughes had been told. What the Marionette had done was wrong, there was no questioning that attacking civilians was a terrible thing to do. Even so, if Ludwig had made sacrifices because he was protecting his friend…that did not necessarily make things better, where everything was forgiven, but it cast his motivations in a different light. Being close to a victim of injustice meant that a person was far more passionate in pursuing their goal to right such wrongs, but it could also cloud their judgement. Emotional involvement could be a person’s downfall.

Hughes, himself, was too close to a chimera to look at this situation and remain impartial. A soldier was supposed to obey the law, but what about when the law was morally wrong? It seemed like the military was increasingly corrupt, the more he learned. Amestris was a country he was dedicated to serving, but with leadership allowing things like experimentation on its people and the slaughter of innocents, he wondered just how much worse it would get before things got better.

On the third floor of the building, they were led to an apartment at the very end of the hall, and Madame Christmas knocked on the door. A voice came from within, a smooth baritone, “The door is unlocked.”

Entering the room, they were greeted by an apartment so sparse that it was clear the residents had not been living there for a very long time. The wooden floors were without any sort of rugs or carpet, and the kitchenette off to one side was barely stocked with the utensils necessary for cooking. The walls lacked any sort of decoration, and there was no furniture except for a lone wooden chair. The only thing that stood out was a dark set of curtains, clearly meant to prevent people from seeing through the window. There was a pile of assorted blankets folded up in one corner of the empty living area, and a tiny stack of books. If the bedrooms in the apartment were similar, it was likely that Ludwig and Vitale were literally on the floor with sleeping bags. He would guess that they did not even have a mattress.

The Madame frowned, “You still don’t have any furniture?”

“Our respective rooms are actually the first things we decided to furnish, aside from the kitchen. It looks worse than it is.” The person who spoke must have been Vitale, and Hughes knew it was probably rude, especially since he already knew a chimera, but he struggled to avoid staring. He sometimes did that to Bunny, and she looked entirely like a large dog; it was mostly whenever she was doing something human-like, and he was fascinated by her dexterity.

Vitale, by comparison, was obviously a chimera, and it was apparent that he was formed from wild animals. He was also not wearing a shirt, only shorts, but it was probably for comfort, considering Bunny did not wear her vest in private settings, either. It was simply…a bit jarring to see something so strange on full display. It looked as if an owl had been placed on top of the lower half of a cat, and the talons had been merged with the wings, which were deliberately trimmed very short, perhaps because they would interfere with wearing sleeves. Human muscle definition was largely hidden by feathers, and the lower half of his body was more feline than human. His tail was long, perhaps equal in length from the top of his head to the end of his spine.

The major problem was that Hughes had no idea how to read an owl. Vitale’s face looked entirely like a bird’s, beak and all, except for the slit-like pupils. The ear-tufts on his head were raised, looking like angry eyebrows, but their positioning probably meant something different. At least with Bunny, Hughes had a familiar comparison. Vitale was different, and although he was no larger than an average person, his presence alone felt threatening. It was wrong, though, to act as if he were dangerous, and Hughes knew that. The chimera was sitting down on a blanket, big talons gripping a book. He had been _reading_, and it was obvious by the way he was speaking he had no intentions of starting a fight.

The Madame nodded, “Fair enough. Is Florian in his room?”

The tail tip flicked once, “Probably absorbed in research to the point he doesn’t notice us talking in the living area. I’ll go and drag him out here.” The chimera set his book aside, got up, and walked over to a narrow, branching hallway, and Hughes almost expected to hear creaking footsteps or the click of claws, but neither occurred. Vitale’s movements were completely silent. He knocked on a door to the right, and when he did not receive an answer, opened it and went inside. In spite of people eyeing the chair in the living room, nobody moved to take it.

There was a startled yelp from inside the room, and the screech of wooden legs on the floor. _“Vitale! Don’t scare me like that!”_

After that, their conversation became too muted to hear.

Vanessa snickered, and Roy sent her an inquiring look, “What’s so funny?”

“Vitale doesn’t make noise when he walks, so he tends to just…pop up behind people when they aren’t expecting it. I guess knocking on the door didn’t make a difference. I don’t think he even means to do it.” Her expression grew sad, then, “I knew he was wearing that cloak and veil to hide how he looked but…I really didn’t know it would be like that. I’m…shocked.”

“It’s a bit hard to take in, I’ll admit, and I’ve known about this for years.”

“-If you’re going to pity me, please be aware I can hear you.” Vitale re-emerged from Ludwig’s room, and Vanessa’s face went red. Roy jolted, but carefully hid any expression that he had been caught off-guard. Hughes found it a little amusing; his friend really had history of being surprised by chimeras.

“How good is your hearing?” Vanessa asked, trying to mask her embarrassment.

“_Very _good hearing,” Was the vague, almost playful answer, as Ludwig was led into the room, a discernible limp where Hawkeye had apparently shot him in the leg. His hair was loose down his back, and a black bandanna was covering his nose and mouth. The bullet wound that would have been over the mask tattoos on his left side was only visible as a scar when the light fell across his exposed arm, as a gnarl of irregular texture. The scar had been re-inked to match the tattoo, somehow.

Although his posture seemed relaxed, Ludwig was wary, though it would take a master of reading body language to tell. He watched Roy from the corner of his eye the same way a person would watch a wild animal, completely ignored the chimera right by his side. The Flame Alchemist, in his eyes, was far more dangerous than someone who had a sharp beak and claws.

Roy did not seem too pleased to see Marionette, compared to how he reacted to Vitale—probably because while one person had actively attempted to kill him and left him with a rather notable scar on his right hand, the other seemed more like a victim of circumstance. His friend glared at the rogue alchemist, “Ludwig, you’ve got a lot of nerve, approaching my family. You’re lucky I’m not hauling you off to jail.”

“You can say that, but I have information you want, and I could be of use to you. You would be passing up a good opportunity if you simply arrested me, and putting yourself in a dangerous position with the top brass. I don’t think I’m going to be hauled off to jail any time soon.” The words were confident and sure, which would surely irritate Roy, but Ludwig was correct. The benefits of colluding with the rogue Marionette Alchemist greatly outweighed whatever could be gained from his arrest. If the secret players in the military were aware of Ludwig’s classified knowledge, then they would become suspicious of whatever exchanges had occurred where they could not eavesdrop.

Roy scowled, “Pretty confident, aren’t you?”

“I am very committed to my goal, Flame.”

“And what goal would that be?”

“The liberation of human chimeras, both the ones in labs and those whose loved ones are being used as hostages to make them obedient super-soldiers. It doesn’t matter if their transmutations are impossible to undo, or whether or not they still look human. They are _people_.”

“Then why the attack on East City? The military doesn’t have a large-scale laboratory there.”

“Keep so much interest focused on East City that nobody notices a separate group gearing up to attack the labs in Central,” Ludwig responded easily, “It doesn’t matter how strong an individual alchemist is; it isn’t possible to tackle Central without numbers.” His eyes narrowed, “I don’t agree with going after soft targets, but my influence was not enough to convince my allies to focus purely on military buildings. I could choose to disagree, but it wouldn’t change anything. Even so, it seems someone figured out our plans, otherwise our second base’s people would have appeared here. They never did.”

That was…even more alarming than knowing how many people were in a single base.

“How many?” Hughes asked, “How many bases, and how many people?”

“At least two-hundred men from the second base, a hundred and thirty…nine? From mine.” His bad leg buckled slightly, and a flash of pain knitted his brow.

Vitale grabbed the chair in the room and pulled it over, “Sit down,” He ordered, even as he practically pushed Ludwig into it.

The Marionette Alchemist waved him off, “Seems kind of unfair that I’m sitting when everyone else has to stand.”

“You have a bad leg,” The chimera pointed out. “Other people aren’t experiencing physical pain.”

Roy turned his attention to Vitale, “You’re the one who saw what happened when the base was attacked. The Madame said two individuals raided it. Who?”

“I don’t know,” Vitale responded, pupils dilating, and feathers shrinking against his form, “But they are _not natural_, whatever they are. I saw one take a bullet to the head, and it might have been some strange form of alchemy, but it _didn’t die_. There were red sparks and it grew back its brains and kept going. Two of them, a woman with dark hair, and a heavy man with a bulbous nose. The woman had a red tattoo on her chest, and the man somehow had one on his tongue. They matched.”

“Was the regeneration all?” He asked.

The chimera’s feathers briefly ruffled before flattening down again; Hughes thought it might have been a shudder. “The woman’s fingers stretched and cut things like blades, even steel swords, the barrels of guns, and support beams from the roof. I don’t know how long they can get, but enough to be dangerous across a room. The man…was…” He took a breath, “He…_ate_ things.” He was not freezing up, but Hughes could tell just from the recollection that Vitale had probably been greatly sickened by what he had seen. “They can’t be human, not even chimeras. They were monsters. Real ones, and they look far more human than I do. They were preceded by a sickening aura. Their very presence carries some sort of taint.”

“The tattoo, what did it look like?” Hughes asked. “Did you get close enough to see?”

That seemed to calm Vitale down, as his feathers stopped pressing so close to his form. His ear tufts lowered slightly, “Guess I’ll lose another bookmark.” He walked over to the stack of books in the corner of the room and opened one of them to a marked spot, revealing that the bookmark was nothing more than a scrap of paper. He reached into the pocket of his shorts and plucked a piece of bright orange chalk. “Not really fond of chalk, but this will do.”

He set the paper down on the floor and made a tea-kettle hiss at the way it crumbled, but began drawing. He sketched out the shape of a dragon coiled in a circle, biting its own tail. In the center he drew a triangle with a hexagon in its interior.

Roy recognized the design, “An ouroboros.”

“Ah, so there’s a name for this symbol?”

“Aren’t you an alchemist?” He asked, eyeing the chalk, “We saw an array in that color. You should know about it.”

“Unfortunately, I am not an alchemist. I merely carry backup chalk in case Florian forgets or loses his. In my experience, alchemists who depend on one kind of array too often tend to be more prone to forgetting a writing tool, in case of emergencies.” Vitale’s tail tip flicked once. “I would warn you not to show this to anyone except your closest allies, and since you _are_ the Flame Alchemist, you should burn the papers immediately after. Also, if you start looking into these…”

“Ouroboros,” Ludwig supplied helpfully.

“I am not going to remember that, most likely,” He responded, “You probably shouldn’t. These creatures…beings…are dangerous and guns don’t work. They all display regeneration from fatal injuries, and anomalous powers. If you were attacked by one, you would not survive, most likely. I don’t even know if more of them exist, but I don’t want to know what else they could be capable of, or how they were made.”

Ludwig hummed from his chair, interlacing his fingers, “I would say there is at least a third we don’t know about. You would need a lot of soldiers to conduct a raid of that scale, but if two of those things could kill one base, a really strong one could pull it off with another.”

Hughes forced a painful smile onto his face, silently thinking that he had not agreed when he signed up for the military to deal with invincible, humanlike monsters or giant conspiracies. “Well, we’ll keep that in mind.”

Ludwig eyed Roy, “Anything else you wanted to ask?”

“Where are the chimeras being made?”

The chimera and the Marionette exchanged glances, and Hughes immediately recognized that it was a sensitive topic. After a silent exchange, Ludwig responded, very slowly, “Lab Five, here in Central. That’s also where Vitale escaped from…but…we aren’t going to go into detail, how he did that. Bad memories and the story’s too long for that.”

“Lab Five was shut down, though,” Hughes spoke the thought aloud.

Ludwig huffed a bitter laugh and slowly shook his head, “It _looks_ like it was shut down, sure. I promise you, that place is still a hub of activity for who-knows-what that the military can’t defend ethically.” He then fixed a hard stare on him, “Stay away from it unless you’re confident you can handle the consequences. I promise you, confront the wrong people on it, and they’ll kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This holds the record for the longest chapter I think.
> 
> SCRIPT:
> 
> (After Mustang and Hughes leave)
> 
> Florian: *Breathes out a sigh of relief* That...was terrifying...
> 
> Vitale: *Pats Florian on the back once* You did very well.
> 
> Florian: Did you really have to force me into a chair?
> 
> Vitale: I didn't see you try to get back up, and you'll let yourself collapse trying to match everyone else.
> 
> Florian: It feels wrong, though.
> 
> Vitale: It isn't though. You still probably need another month before you can handle anything truly strenuous.
> 
> Florian: Six to eight weeks...good grief...


	27. The Cost of Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mustang discusses chimeras with Florian and Vitale. Edward has a meltdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to avoid things feeling forced, and plot does happen in this chapter, but it also feels a bit awkward the way I wrote it. 
> 
> In the timeline we're going to hit the last year before we get to the main plot, and I'm setting that up. Bunny's presence does change a lot of stuff and I've pretty much tossed the original story into a grinder, because a lot of stuff is getting found out earlier than normal.
> 
> Also, for those wondering, this story on Ed's part, it really is something that I'd say was inevitable, given what happened with Mustang. The Colonel in this story is a pseudo-parental figure, and especially given that he has now committed to being better, he has triggered some problems Ed was able to ignore previously. Abandonment is something that we tend to think of as physical, but it is also, in a sense, possible through withholding emotional warmth. Mustang was not an emotionally warm person for the longest time, and the moment he tried to be better, he kind of stumbled into some stuff.
> 
> Parents of characters are discussed in this chapter, and I would like to say that how people grow up is definitely affected by their parents even in early life. Trisha Elric was not a perfect parent, and I don't intend to portray her that way, nor do I want to say she's dead and that be the end of things. She was a younger woman who was raising two kids by herself, and she most likely did not expect that when Hohenheim left to go do something, he would completely cut off all contact. There is some indication that she constantly saw him reflected in her sons, and their interest in alchemy was out of a desire to make their mother happy. In a nutshell, while I don't think Trisha was a horrible parent, I do think that she may have fallen into a depression over Hohenheim's absence, and her children, as young as they were, could see it happening. This is the angle I use to explain why Edward hates his father as much as he does, and why he seems to hold Hohenheim responsible for her death. Abandonment deeply hurts children, and it does leave its own host of problems, independent of other factors.
> 
> I do not take a sympathetic stance towards Hohenheim's character, even if I do not outright hate him. Although in the grand scheme he had a noble mission, he ultimately hurt his children a great deal. The reason for why he left is not going to undo the pain he caused. People who have parents who up and left have a right to be angry, and kids have the right to reject their parent, even if they want to be a part of their life again later. If you have a family member who hurt you very badly, or even continues to do so, you should not have to stay around that person, or be made to feel guilty when a presence is toxic or constantly brings out the worst in you.
> 
> That in mind, I hope things don't feel too forced. Enjoy reading!

Mustang initially wanted to tear Ludwig apart, upon finding out that the Marionette Alchemist had made contact with his family. It did not matter that he was employed by the Colonel’s aunt as a cook, or that his friend was a chimera who did the same thing, in addition to being a janitor. Madame Christmas and all of his ‘sisters’ were civilians, not fighters, and if people as dangerous as the two fugitives were inclined to flee from whatever hidden forces were in the military, Mustang wanted them nowhere near people who could not defend themselves. After the initial talk with his aunt downstairs, he ultimately respected her wishes to harbor them, but still felt angry. He could not help but make a comment when the alchemist made his appearance, still covering his face for some reason. He had expected far more hostility or venom, some form of aggression that showed unwillingness to work with him, but it became apparent rather quickly that Ludwig was a rare sort of person who did not hold grudges; if he did, then the criteria had to be extreme.

Florian Ludwig, Mustang had realized midway through questioning, was not a hardened soldier consumed with anger for the military. He did not fit the usual profile of a rebel, and his general demeanor bordered on something almost friendly. There was almost no sign that this behavior was a façade, though it was clear he was far more serious than he appeared. He seemed sensitive to moving objects in his vision, especially in his periphery. He would react almost subconsciously to things approaching that most people would have failed to notice. He had tried to dodge Vitale forcing him into a chair, and it was so subtle that most people would have missed it. Ludwig paid careful attention to where Mustang’s hands were, even when his posture seemed completely relaxed while sitting down.

This seemed to be the Marionette Alchemist’s default behavior around most people he was not comfortable with. An almost flawless image of someone who did not appear threatened at all, even though he was carefully watching for any indication of a threat or ambush. Only when he wanted to make a point clear, did he completely change his behavior, leaning forward with eyes that swam with demons, voicing warnings in a firm, almost haunting voice. Ludwig was as dramatic a character in real life as he was when he had been performing puppet shows, and he used that to his advantage.

Even so, Mustang could see traces of fear that never seemed to leave, and he could tell that his concern about chimeras was genuine. It became even more evident when the Colonel observed Ludwig’s interactions with Vitale. There was nothing romantic about their bond, but there was an unmistakable warmth that entered their voices when they spoke to each other. The two were best friends, something bordering family, perhaps, and each person was willing to lay down their life for the safety of the other. They would allow themselves to be dragged down if it meant protecting each other.

They had already declined discussing how Vitale had escaped from the Fifth Laboratory, but Mustang was admittedly curious, how the two had met. Speculation alone made it seem as if the sole reason Ludwig had defected from the military was to protect his friend.

A liability? It depended on how much risk the Colonel would take, but if he were to measure in terms of who was more likely to harm his ambitions, the Elrics and Bunny were just as much a threat as Marionette, and he struggled to hold things against Vitale. There were benefits to having these people on his side, Mustang could not help but think. A supporter who would commit treason for a friend was _loyal_, and that was something that he valued highly. He just had to make sure they would be loyal to _him_.

After a few more exchanges of information, Mustang requested that he speak with the two men alone. Madame Christmas, Vanessa, and Maes both went back downstairs, leaving him with the fugitives alone in the empty apartment.

“What is it you want to ask privately, Flame?” Ludwig asked.

“It’s an unusual question for me to ask you, but perhaps you can enlighten me on the subject. What is it like being a chimera, or living with one? I’m not getting along very well with my subordinates, at the moment, and I believe that my lack of understanding is the reason why.” It would take out two birds with one stone; if he got answers to his questioning. It would show a personal investment in chimeras that would properly win Ludwig and Vitale over, and perhaps he would learn more about how to deal with the Elrics and Bunny. He had the impression that these two men would be more inclined to answer him honestly, without dodging around topics or threatening bodily harm.

“Indeed unusual, but some people are not comfortable with such topics, so I suppose we can’t fault you for asking.” Ludwig hummed thoughtfully, and interlaced his fingers, “It varies between chimeras, based on what animals, how many traits they inherited physically, and the neurological changes, as well. Generally speaking, the more animalistic the chimera appears, the more apparent the animal is mentally…that _shouldn’t_ alarm you. You won’t see Vitale or Fullmetal’s friend suddenly snap and turn into uncontrollable beasts like they have split personalities. It simply means that the integration of animal instincts or even memories was more even, rather than being completely suppressed by the human mind. I studied the alchemy behind it, that was my conclusion.”

Mustang thought he might understand what the Marionette Alchemist was referring to. Bunny had never behaved as if she lost control of herself, except during extreme situations that would have been triggers even for normal humans. She bit and clawed at her enemies, and had plenty of physical strength; the moment she connected with an opponent during a fight, it was generally over. He had been grabbed and thrown, yet both of those actions, as powerful as they appeared by normal standards, had still been carried out with heavy restraint. Her jaws could probably crush bones if she applied the right amount of pressure. She had _told_ him how hyper-aware she was of her own strength, playing with Elicia and Nina.

“This…mental integration, how does it affect you?” He directed the question, this time, at Vitale. It seemed unfair to ask someone other than an actual chimera. He got the impression from how this person reacted to his friend’s injured leg, he would not flinch away from the question.

“Chimeras that are composed of predatory species generally inherit the instinctive urge to find and capture prey, using whatever hunting style is preferred. You may also remember things from your animals, though I’m not sure if this is a feature of failed chimeras, specifically, or all of them. I tend to get strange dreams, every now and then.”

The dreaming and memories was perhaps the most surprising thing, for Mustang. Vitale was outright stating he remembered things that his animals had done. Did Bunny experience something similar? If she did, she was probably fearful of discussing it, because there were decidedly unnerving implications, having the memories of an animal inside your head. It made _sense_, though, that if you had retained your memories as a human, you could surely also retain them as an animal. “I think you’ve answered my questions. Thank you.” Although technically he was in a place to make demands, the Colonel knew this information was personal.

Ludwig slowly stood from his chair, “We expect to work with you in the future. You are welcome to my alchemy notes related to chimeras, if you wish. Perhaps you or Fullmetal or even that chimera could develop better theories than myself. My alchemy is more for fibers and metals than biology, though…I’d need time to copy them.”

That made Mustang’s mind stop working for a moment, “You’re offering your notes.” The disbelief carried in his voice. “You _trust_ me with that information?” The Marionette Alchemist hardly knew him, and the Colonel had threatened him not very long ago. There was no reason for him to offer any of his own research. Roy Mustang was the Flame Alchemist, _Hero of Ishval_, a title he wore with bitterness. He had murdered countless people with alchemy. Why was Ludwig trusting him with something so precious?

It was like Bunny and her healing array, again, except biological alchemy like this, Ludwig was surely giving him something dangerous.

“Best that you are informed of such arrays. Vitale gave me a sketch of the array from memory that he was transmuted with, and you should perhaps ask the chimera you know for a sketch of her own, if she remembers. Most likely she does. Maybe you can find something I missed. I deal with metals and fibers, not bio-alchemy.” He winced, likely from a bit of pain in his leg, “Now, if you’ll excuse me…if we get to talking about alchemy your friend will start to wonder if I’ve fed you to a puppet.”

“Very well,” Mustang found himself unwilling to tell the man he could not return to his room, and let him go, his gait slow. His wound was probably not even fully-healed, if he put into perspective how little time had truly passed since they fought on opposing sides. He understood why the Madame had not turned the two men in, specifically Marionette. He had something he wanted to achieve, a relatively noble goal, and he had no idea how to achieve it on his own. He might have become a fugitive _because_ he stood up for his beliefs.

Mustang could not fault Marionette for refusing to let someone harm a friend, and as much as he _wanted_ to hold things against him, like the scar on Breda’s arm, or the pale pink line on his hand, he found himself truly struggling. What Ludwig had done was not right…but Mustang…_understood_. It was not that he particularly liked the man, or that he considered him a friend, but he could not bring himself to be angry or hate him, now. It seemed he had won the man over, a little, if he felt comfortable enough to joke about his puppets…or perhaps it was to diffuse the tension.

Vitale took the now-vacant chair and returned it to its original spot in the room. He was a mystery, and Mustang wondered if this was just a feature of chimeras in general.

“I’m surprised you don’t have more furniture beyond what’s in your rooms,” He admitted, picking something random.

“To be fair, had you told us to leave, we would have. The next time someone pays us a visit, we may have furniture.” The owl-cat chimera responded easily.

“Not wanting to get too attached?”

“The Madame has been very generous to us, Flame. More so than the Swallow’s Song ever was, and the people here treat me like a person, rather than a freak…but…old habits are difficult to break. When you lose a lot of people, you have trouble letting yourself get attached. You get so used to living in a world where it can be torn away you just never learn to shut down.” It was a rather dark and depressing thing to say.

“Who were you, then? Sounds like you went through something pretty rough, aside from what’s obvious.” Some sort of idea of who Vitale _was_. He knew nothing.

The chimera stared at him for a moment, something that he probably could not help due to his eyes, silent for a long time, before sighing. “…South Command special forces. Near the Aerugonian border you run into a strip of jungles. We were…just doing a recon mission, didn’t expect things to fall apart like they did.” His pupils contracted to thin slits, “They take the injured soldiers who’ll never be able to serve due to their injuries, transmute them so their limbs work again, and hope the end result still has some use.”

It made Mustang a little sick, to think about it. Being injured on a battlefield to the point that you would be honorably discharged was one thing, and it was a miracle to survive something like an ambush. They must have sent him to the lab when he thought he was going to a hospital instead. Vitale never mentioned what happened, either, to the soldiers he had been working with. They might be dead, or transmuted in a cage somewhere, and the chimera would probably not even know. _Not knowing_ was the most horrible part, perhaps. His team would have been a close-knit group, and he probably had survivor’s guilt. There was no closure.

Moreover, Vitale was dangerous as a fighter, though he was not trying to threaten Mustang, thankfully. Special forces were the people who were sent into the heart of enemy territory, people who rescued hostages and did all of the subtle things that the normal military could not. They were the soldiers who had stories told about them; killing foes with their bare hands or simple weapons like piano wires, and assassinations. A lot of information about their missions was classified.

Even if he was not an alchemist, Vitale was a chimera and he could hurt someone very easily.

“Do you know what happened to your team?” He forced the question out, knowing it was cursed.

“…No…” There were a million things hidden in that single word. It was wavering, betraying something deeply hurt. Vitale closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering break, “Go back downstairs, Flame...” It might have been a long time since he had been transmuted, but the wound was still raw and bleeding. It must have taken sheer force of will not to break down, then and there, at the mere mention of it.

Because he could do nothing to make anything better, and in spite of himself, Mustang felt his stomach twist into a knot, he did as he was told.

Bunny enjoyed traveling on trains during the night. Most people disliked traveling, in general, unless the sun was up, but she tended to prefer the dim lighting and general quiet that came with nighttime. It was a bonus, but trains that traveled at night had fewer people on them, and there were increased odds of nobody except her, Ed, and Al being within a car. When that happened, she could talk freely and draw. It made things far less boring, since pretending to be a dog on a train mostly involved staring at something or falling asleep. It was very hard to avoid sleeping on trains, because there was no point in being awake when there was nothing to focus on.

She watched the countryside move by through the window, Edward alert, having slept most of the time on the train already, doing the same exact thing. Bunny enjoyed trying to track things like trees or buildings with her eyes, only for them to almost immediately leave her vision, forcing her to focus on something else. The further from Central they got, the more stars that appeared in the sky. Ed’s voice broke her out of her thoughts, “Hey Bunny?” It came out sounding funny, with his face pressed against the glass.

“Yeah?”

“Never asked before…but…what were your parents like?” In truth, the chimera would have expected Edward Elric to carefully avoid all mention of parental figures. If anyone was going to ask her questions, she thought it would have been Alphonse, first. She knew about the boys’ mother, but she had no idea about their father, and given the lack of photographs of the man even on the Rockbell’s corkboard (Except one, a man holding a smiling Ed, his face carefully covered by a corner), she figured it was a sensitive topic. It seemed the younger brother was equally surprised, by the way the suit of armor seemed to jolt, looking up from his book. The most they knew about Bunny’s parents was that she had possessed a good relationship with them, and her father carved antlers.

“What brought this on, Ed?” She asked, mystified.

His shoulders tensed, “Nothing…just curious.” He forcibly relaxed his posture, unclenching his jaw, “You don’t have to hold back talking about yours just because ours…aren’t around.” There must have been something on his mind, but he would probably shut down if anyone asked, so Bunny did not. She hoped he was doing okay; sometimes he seemed to dwell on things, and it worried her, though she was certainly not one to talk, because she did the same thing.

“Well, Dad was actually a soldier, but he wasn’t a high-ranking officer. He would leave to go…somewhere, for a really long time, and then he’d come back, and if he went into work at the base in our hometown for just that day, I’d freak out thinking he was leaving for months again. Broke my parent’s heart on a regular basis. I think that’s why even though I don’t trust the military as a whole, I don’t mind soldiers as much. Because they’re not too far removed from my dad.”

The undertone, she sometimes wondered if she was not projecting how she felt towards her father onto Mustang, at times. The Colonel was drastically different from Bunny’s dad, but had some key similarities that were hard to ignore. Her father did not look the same, nor was he a shameless flirt, or a person who relied heavily on lies. What the two men had in common was that Bunny’s father had been a procrastinator, at least when it came to work at home, and during serious moments, he had the same, authoritative tone in his voice that the Flame Alchemist sometimes employed.

Mustang was not Bunny’s father and he never would be, but he reminded her of him, sometimes. She wondered if that was why she could never bring herself to hate him like the brothers did. She knew the reason she never seemed to latch onto Maes Hughes as some sort of parental figure was because he was too _different, _too cheerful, emotional, and cunning in a way her father had never been. Her family was a straightforward bunch, but Bunny’s father had only ever shed tears at the funerals of loved ones, and was reserved in emotional displays.

“So he was gone pretty often, huh?” Ed muttered under his breath. He was thinking of…something, and Bunny silently wondered if she was dredging up something painful.

“I loved him, though, and he was a good dad when he was home. He was some sort of technician, but he knew how to woodwork and…he had…_so many_ skills, but he couldn’t play politics and he wasn’t the sort of person to lie. That’s probably why he never really climbed the ranks. I don’t even remember what he was really…but…I’d probably toss a rank out there and say…Sergeant, maybe?”

Her ear twitched, “Outside of work…dad was…amazingly skilled. He knew how to do a lot of stuff. He carved bones, which you know, but he knew how to woodwork too. Built the shelves in my room and taught me just a little bit about how to finish things. Polyeurethane really does reek, by the way, but the durability of the project is worth it, if bugs would quit sticking to the stuff while it dries. He would also collect dead animals and dump them into vats of hydrogen peroxide-” They were alchemy prodigies, geniuses, but the last part was so crazy that it would still likely have the intended effect if she toyed with the wording, at least for a few brief moments.”

_“What?”_ They still reacted in unison, before Edward immediately began puzzling over the information. Realization quickly dawned, “Wait a _minute!”_

Alphonse unhelpfully started laughing, making him respond with embarrassment. Edward could joke around and prank people, but he was not fond of being fooled.

“You’ve never seriously wondered how all my skeletal drawings are anatomically accurate, it was too good to pass up,” Her tail was wagging, and even when Edward leaned over and tried to shove her in the shoulder (ineffective due to her weight) she kept laughing.

“Okay_,_ so your dad did taxidermy with bones. I actually don’t know if I wanna know how he got the tissue off of ‘em.”

“Beetles.”

“…_Beetles?”_

“Carrion-eating beetles,” She cheerfully replied. Following that, she immediately went back to the original topic, “Point is, he did a lot of stuff. Mom was pretty awesome, too. She was an excellent cook, had this green thumb that I could never hope to match. She didn’t have a profession but she knew a whole lot of stuff that you couldn’t really learn in school. Okay dad was the breadwinner, and mom controlled the finances and kept the whole household from falling apart. She did everything, and if there was any conflict it was usually over just being so exhausted from working. She mowed the lawn, she would do all this crazy heavy lifting like furniture or equipment or bags of fancy soil, and she had a really high-quality vegetable garden people would be envious of. My dad was strong, people didn’t even really realize how strong he was because he was built like a string bean, but Mom? She had strength and was really muscular too, like…more than what you’d expect for a woman usually. I was like, _ten_, and it used to bug me because people were always like, ‘Don’t push your husband too hard’ not realizing _she_ was doing the yard work.”

Alphonse spoke then, “I can tell you really loved them.” His voice was fond, and perhaps wistful. Their mother was dead, her memory tainted by their actions, and Bunny had no clue about their father.

That made her enthusiasm wane, a bit, “…I don’t know if I ever really got over it…I mean…I won’t immediately break down and cry anymore…but…I used to do it a lot…I mean they were both there one day, and it…they were gone the next.” Perhaps if she were human, still, a single tear would fall, but she did not have tears, so her expression would not betray her, now.

Somehow she knew that would not fool the brothers at all.

After a long pause, Edward sighed, “You’re probably wondering about it…and…as much as you tell us I think it’s fair. Our old man…he _might_ be dead, but honestly, it wouldn’t matter if he was or not, ‘cause he left. Didn’t send a letter or make a phone call. _Nothing_. I was five, and Al was four. He might be my old man, but he’s _not_ my father.” He followed the statement up with a profane muttering under his breath.

Alphonse seemed to disapprove, “Brother…” His voice came out not merely as an objection to foul language, but perhaps how Ed seemed to regard his father, overall. It made things click into place, suspicions becoming proper, solid information.

Edward hated his father, so much that when the slightest indication of facial hair started to grow in, making him perhaps resemble the man even slightly, he had cut his face trying to get rid of it. The older Elric had always been far more sensitive about his appearance than he ever let on. He was sensitive about his height, being behind on his growth, and he felt self-conscious about his automail because of how he lost his limbs. It seemed he resented his features because of his resemblance to the man who left.

It made her heart ache.

“I think…” Al began, “Mum might have been depressed. She always encouraged us in our alchemy, so we kept doing it, but she used to talk a lot about how it reminded her of our dad. Sometimes we’d walk into a room and she’d be staring out the window, just…crying. I think she really missed him.”

Ed gritted his teeth, “When that…” He waved a wrist wildly to indicate a something profane, before ultimately swearing anyway, “…left, it broke her heart, and I’m positive, that’s why she died. It’s _his fault._ If he came back, she might have gotten better. For a few months it was okay, but then she just fell apart, and nothing we did stopped it. He _had_ to have gotten some of our letters, right? We sent them to everyone he ever worked with! He never wrote, he never came back even when she was so bad she couldn’t get out of bed. That _killed_ her.” It seemed as if he was working himself into a rage.

Beneath the anger, there was a sense of betrayal.

“Brother, please…” Alphonse began.

“Al, he _left_ us. That’s all there is to it. I don’t care why, and if he comes back, I _will_ hit him, he _deserves_ it. You don’t _remember!_” Fire flashed in those golden eyes.

She decided she needed to get him away from his brother, before he started saying something incredibly hurtful. It was already getting there, toeing the line, “Let’s go outside, you and me, Ed,” Her voice came out calm and even, as Bunny got onto her feet. “Al, we’ll be back in a bit.”

“O-okay…”

Ed still looked furious, but he did not protest when they got up and walked down the aisle of the vacant pet car, emerging out onto a small metal platform, the wind rushing by as the locomotive moved. Winter was approaching quickly, and there was a distinct chill in the air, though for the moment, the chimera was almost grateful for it. Anger made a person feel like their temperature was higher than normal, and it was physically unpleasant. The cold would help alleviate that, a bit.

“Bunny, I don’t _want_ to calm down!” He started as soon as the door was shut, “Mum was always talking about how I took after _him_, and I don’t _want_ to be like him! I don’t even know _why_ she loved him, he _left_, and she was never the same!” Now that they were outside, he had no reason to restrain the volume of his voice, shouting. His whole frame shook with anger, fists clenching in that way they often did when he wanted to hit something but had no target. “Wasn’t she good enough? Weren’t _we_ good enough?”

He finally did find a target, smashing his automail fist into the metal railing, visibly denting it. He was an alchemist, and so was she, so Bunny did not comment on the destruction of property. She could not recall Edward having ever been this upset before, and the trigger for his rage seemed to be his own sibling begging him to calm down. He had bottled up that pain for so long that it was almost frightening in its intensity, when it bubbled to the surface.

The sound of metal ringing against metal, though, seemed to snap him out of it, and his snarling expression changed into one that she could only describe as broken. He looked at the dent he had made, backed away from the railing, and leaned back against the metal wall of the train car, staring up at the stars flying past. He let his legs give out, sliding down onto the floor, looking stricken. He fell silent, seemingly at a loss.

She waited for a few moments, before walking over, and, when he made no indication that he would push her away, wrapped an arm around him as effectively as she could without making it too awkward, laying her head on top of his. There was a weak gasp of protest, but nothing else. In this position, it was not exactly comfortable, because Edward sitting on the ground left her with an unpleasant disparity in their respective heights, unless she was laying down entirely, and that was pointless for hugs. It was easy, though, to drag Ed into an embrace so long as he was not fighting it. He weighed a lot more than his size would suggest, two steel limbs and the rest muscle; nothing, though, to a person who had the strength of a bear.

Bunny had no idea what she should say in this situation, but she forced out what she was thinking. “You’re always good enough. Anybody who doesn’t see that is a fool.” For her, the word ‘fool’ was perhaps on the same level as a curse.

A long silence passed, and Bunny was not sure how much time transpired before she got any sort of response.

“…Why do you stick around us? We’re always dragging you into danger, and you could have stayed with Granny and Winry.”

_I love you, you’re like the brothers I never had, and Mom and Dad would have adored you._

“Because you’re worth it,” She said.

‘Love’ was the one word she could never say.

_…Elsewhere…_

“That dog is going to make things complicated, you know? Why can’t I just walk up and kill it? Actually, why can’t I have more missions where we just slaughter the humans? That base full of rebels was delightful. When I showed them my true form, so many of them were terrified and they didn’t even fight back! Ha!”

“It’s perfectly normal for dogs to have people they dislike, and since you can change your shape, nobody will suspect that they are being followed. I believe I’ve explained this before. Lust and Gluttony will continue to work together on making preparations. I’m expecting you to keep track of Fullmetal. You are the ideal candidate for the job.”

“Ugh…fine, _fine_, I’ll leave the dog alone, but whenever this charade is over, I’m killing it. I want to see the look on the pipsqueak’s face when he realizes his precious puppy’s dead.”

“You’re free to do whatever you like with the animal when this is done. But _only_ then, Envy.” A lone eye narrowed, glinting with an inhuman lack of warmth. Although the other was hidden behind an eye patch, the shapeshifter, Envy, knew what was behind it. A creature that was by nature superior to humans, but forced to blend into their society, they disguised themselves as a teenager of ambiguous gender. The long, flowing hair was a nice touch, the body sculpted to look athletic, but not excessively muscular. It was strong, unique, and _cute_, although it was really just personal preference. It did not matter what their end appearance was, anyway. They could look like a mouse, and they would still have the same amount of strength that they always possessed.

Why would they want to degrade themselves to a mouse, though, when there were so many different faces to wear? They could be whatever they wanted, but for now, they wanted to be better than the military’s new pawn, and apparently Amestris’ favorite State Alchemist.

…Pathetic, they probably would not say such nice things about Fullmetal, if they had any real idea of how he had gotten his certification. When they no longer had to creep about in the shadows, Envy would have fun tearing him apart emotionally and mentally, before finally killing him in the most painful way he could device. There was plenty of ammunition, already, from the one brother he would be free to slaughter when he was no longer needed, an adorable pet, and the alchemist’s dirty secret that made him a sacrifice in the first place.

It would be fun. They felt giddy when they thought about it.

Except that was the future, and for now, they were being stuck with a far more boring mission. Normally they got sent out to deal with rebels who got to be too much for the humans to handle; fighting was fun when you could tear apart your enemies without even trying. The dog, though, the _stupid dog_ meant they could not get close to Fullmetal without making the animal suspicious, and it would look pretty bad if the same person set it off every time.

So instead of sending Lust to do the boring work, because _she_ could not change her face, Envy got stuck with the mission instead.

It was a lot of ridiculous work they were getting stuck with, just because of a mutt that seemed freakishly intelligent, as far as dogs went. It would be easy for an animal to get shot in the head and it have nothing to deal with what they were doing, but for some reason everyone was dragging their feet in trying to actually get rid of it. Maybe because there was a good chance Fullmetal would just get another dog, and the same problem would happen all over again. Admittedly, the dog did a decent job protecting the sacrifices, too, so there was _that_ angle, but…it was annoying.

The dog, of course, would always know who Envy was, because as much as they changed their form, they doubted their scent would change.

Animals could not talk, though, and most of them were too scared to attack them, anyway. It was a good thing, because humans would easily find out what was going on if their pets were able to properly warn them. _Sometimes,_ they had to actually perform assassinations for parrots, because the birds were smart enough to have at least some level of understanding of human language if they learned to talk. Just enough to cause problems. It had only happened once where there was a serious threat, but it was enough that if a high-ranking officer not supporting their plans happened to get a bird, Envy had to sneak poison into its food.

They had a policy. If you killed someone, make sure you kill the pet, too, because animals were really in some ways smarter than humans. They always _knew._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a fact that parrots have actually been used to identify the murderers of their owners. It's silly, but I could not resist.
> 
> Envy is murder-y as always.
> 
> SCRIPT:
> 
> Bunny: You doing better?
> 
> Ed: Yeah...
> 
> Bunny: We going back inside?
> 
> Ed: Sure
> 
> Bunny: Okay, well, one of us needs to fix the railing, before the train conductors start asking questions.
> 
> Ed: Aren't you mad that I damaged it? I mean usually people are always telling me not to tear up cities and stuff.
> 
> Bunny: We can fix it, besides, I'd be more concerned about the scratches on your knuckles. Winry's going to throw a fit.


	28. Breathing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is peaceful, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone was hoping for a slower, more relaxed chapter, I think so I decided to do that. I apologize for how short this one is, but it fought me very hard to be written, and I hope it's at least enjoyable. I decided I would have some backstory-ish stuff with Ed and Al, and then a bit more with Florian, since we've mostly had interactions in the story coming from the perspective of other characters, and not his own.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!

Edmiritbu was a city that existed as a crossroads between Central Area and New Optain, but in spite of being a rather large place, it was unpopular amongst people who did not work in its primary industries. Specializing in the production of lime and its associated products, it was built at the edge of a massive quarry that bordered the entire northern side of town, seeming to stretch endlessly. The quarry carved deep into the earth, a series of valleys and artificial cliffs formed from grey-white stone with pathways scattered throughout. To the east, a field was piled high with mounds of rubble that rose like mountains. For the northern third of the city, only the hardiest of plants could survive, being nonexistent within the quarry itself. Closer to the lime plant, a white powder clung to trees, shrubs, and buildings, bleaching out their colors and giving the world an ashen hue.

Edward, Alphonse, and Bunny had quickly exposed a miracle cure scammer on the first day they were in the city, after arriving there following rumors of a Philosopher’s Stone. For once, it was a peaceful resolution, with the fake doctor not attempting to flee from the Elrics, and willingly agreeing to pay a fine to local authorities. While he was ordered to stop lying about the effectiveness of his product, the man was considerate enough not to feed his customers poison, and was even permitted to continue selling upon a review of the ingredients he had used. His ‘miracle cure’ had been nothing more than an herbal tea, made with a mix of rooibos, valerian, and chamomile. It had become popular as a beverage in spite of the doctor’s ‘instructions,’ with locals often choosing to drink it in the evenings, as it helped them fall asleep—exactly as such a concoction would have been used, had people known.

With their brief encounter out of the way, Edward had steered his group to the southern part of the city, driven there by the reduced amount of airborne particles, and the blasting that occurred during the mining process. It had unnerved him endlessly, the occasional explosions in the distance, followed by shaking in the ground, and an accompanying rattle from objects that were not bolted down. Locals would smirk at him when he was startled, long-used to it by now, although they did not seem to personally care for it, themselves. Shops with breakable objects were nonexistent in the northern part of the city, and the small restaurant where they had opted to eat inside—Bunny permitted so she would not have to be exposed to more dust—had been sparsely decorated. The regular shaking made it impossible to keep frames on the wall, or anything that might shatter if it fell.

Locals also never wore anything too dark or bright, opting for muted clothing, and it was apparent why. Ed had white powder on his trousers and coat from when he had accidentally brushed against something, and the same issue went for Bunny’s vest. A testament to the fact that he probably spent too much time around the chimera, he briefly wondered what this was doing to people’s lungs, constantly being exposed to it. It was nowhere near as suffocating as a coal mine, but somehow worse, because the dust was _everywhere._

They did not truly get away from the dust until they reached the very edge of town, which seemed abandoned, stopping at a deserted road that abruptly cut off to reveal a swamp. It looked polluted, Ed could not help but think, eyeing the rainbow-like shimmer that covered the water’s surface; it looked as if someone had spilled oil or gasoline on the water. In spite of this, however, the swamp was alive with the sounds of frogs and insects, and seemed lush and green, covered by a thick canopy. For whatever reason, this natural feature was thriving, in spite of the contamination.

Bunny had described her home as being surrounded on all four sides by swamps and bogs. He could imagine why she had been so fond of it, from a brief glimpse like this, even if it was slightly tainted. He stared at it for a while, before his brother spoke, “What are you thinking about, brother?” Alphonse asked.

“Not much, Al,” He glanced down at Bunny, “Did the Marais look like this?”

The chimera gave a small nod, her expression fond. After assessing the area for eavesdroppers, she spoke, “This swamp’s pristine,” Her tone and expression told them she was not joking. “When decaying plants break down in the water, their natural oils float to the surface, and the rainbow effect gets stronger the longer it goes without raining.” Though Ed and his brother could run circles around perhaps every alchemist in existence, Bunny’s knowledge regarding more mundane topics was almost encyclopedic at times. It often consisted of the sort of information that people did not expect to be useful, but then turned out to be weirdly relevant later. He supposed, though, that knowing why oil on the water was not cause for concern would be common knowledge for people who lived near wetlands.

“You know, this reminds me of how when we were younger, people were trying to make sure we knew to avoid rams and bulls. I mean we knew the names already, but they didn’t really think we were that smart, so they just said ‘if it has horns, don’t go near it.’” Ed decided to put the thought out there, aloud.

“Well, they were dangerous even for adults. The rooster was the one that was awful, though,” Alphonse joined. “Remember when the neighbors down the road got Checkers, and he kept trying to attack us?” Checkers the rooster, a big, black-and-white bird with long, inward-curving spurs on the back of his legs the length of a human finger. People liked to make fun of the aggression of male chickens, but it was less humorous when you thought about the kind of weapons the creatures wielded.

“I _hated_ that bird, he got me with his spurs like a hundred times. He flew up and tried to scratch out your eyes, Al.” It seemed like the rooster had always tried to target a person’s face, and it was made worse by the fact that Checkers would actively sneak up behind someone, as if he were planning an ambush. Ed’s brother had luckily seen the attack coming and had managed to throw his arms up just in time.

“Yeah, I remember. I never thought I’d be so scared of a chicken before. It was even worse because they had probably twenty hens already. They didn’t really need a rooster.”

They went on to talk about the shopkeeper’s nephew in town who was always covered in bruises from dealing with an old, particularly aggressive ram, and trying to walk home from the schoolhouse when it was raining. It took a bit for Edward to realize that Bunny had remained completely silent during these exchanges, but when he glanced in her direction, he found her simply watching them, head tilted as she listened. Every word would be committed to memory, and the chimera might remember their conversation years later. Part of why she knew so much was perhaps purely because, once she learned a bit of information, she never forgot. She simply accumulated the knowledge in her brain, referencing it as needed.

“What about you, Bunny?” Al turned to her, after a bit, “Do you have any weird stories?”

“Mom caught a smaller crocodile once because it was sleeping on our front porch. She carried it out to the docks, struggling the whole way, and basically hurled it into the water.” Her gaze drifted out over the swamp, “I mean it was a pretty rough way to handle it, but it could have flipped around and taken off her fingers if she wasn’t careful, so I don’t think you can hold it against her too much. If she hadn’t done that, the neighbor probably would have went for their shotgun.”

She mused thoughtfully, “Let’s see…what else? That time we relocated a skunk.”

Ed frowned at her, “Wait…how did you avoid getting sprayed?”

“It got the family dog twice. There’s a trick to it. Skunks won’t spray themselves, so if you cover the cage they aren’t as liable to do it. Then you just…_carefully_ move the still-covered cage and sweet-talk it.”

“…Sweet talk? Does that really work?”

“Apparently? Dad didn’t get sprayed. It just stepped out of the cage and ran off when he released it.” There was a lull, before she spoke again, “So, aside from escaping the lime plant blasts and the dust, anything else you wanted to do while we’re here? Nobody’s around here so I can get away with talking but…I don’t think you can do a whole lot of research in this area. Unless you wanna go poking around out _there_,” She looked out into the swamp.

Edward groaned, “Why did I get an evening ticket for the train? We’re stuck here.” He complained about it, but he already knew why he had made such a decision. Bunny had more opportunities to talk, and trips that went overnight were quieter, in general. It was easier to sleep on a train when someone’s cat or puppy was not actively trying to sit on you. Also, if he was really honest with himself, being able to actually _talk_ with Bunny and Al both, all three of them, was something they never got to do outside of hotels and their dorm in East City. Conversations without the constant fear of someone listening in were rare.

Also, just maybe, he was a bit influenced by what Bunny had said on the train after he had started yelling, when she hugged him. Perhaps it was weak or pathetic, but some part of him, he could not quite deny it, wanted to dwell on that feeling of warmth and safety.

Alphonse shifted, “Sparring?” He suggested.

Bunny slowly backed away, “If you’re gonna spar, please be mindful of the water. I don’t want to fish you out and have to get a bath.” In truth, it was more that she disliked needing help for them. She actually liked being clean a great deal. Either way, Ed and his brother both understood the sentiment. “Hazards?” She asked.

“We’ll be careful,” Ed affirmed, while he and his sibling took their places. “Hazards,” He gave a nod.

There was a brief pause while the two of them gained their bearings, before Edward launched himself at Al, first, charging after him in an attempt to get within his space. A punch was thrown, and he ducked under that arm, kicking out with his automail leg in an effort to knock his brother off-balance. That foot was abruptly caught with a leather gauntlet, and he felt wind whistle in his ears as he was thrown back a distance. He landed on his feet, going into a crouch to absorb the shock, and lunged again. Perhaps he should aim high, this time.

Alphonse sidestepped, directing a shove into his lower back, and Ed could only yelp as he stumbled, trying to avoid falling. He narrowly picked up on the kick directed his way in order to dodge, before throwing out a punch of his own, which was blocked. He found himself being thrown, again, using the grip on his arm, and had to do handsprings to avoid landing on his face. By this point, Al was moving to actively grab him in a way that would end the spar, and Ed had to evade him.

Edward enjoyed sparring. He got to move around and felt pleasantly exhausted afterwards, but it did not come with the same sort of risks as fighting a serious opponent. It was fun running through abandoned buildings and playing hide-and-seek when he and Al were with their alchemy teacher, too, but such places were rare. They needed an enormous building and the surrounding area had to be deserted, so locals were not throwing a fit over whatever risky stunts they pulled. He imagined Bunny would enjoy the same sort of activities, if they could find something fairer to play. She could easily outrun him and Al both, and trying to hide was impossible when her sense of smell was so powerful.

There was a tiny spark of blue, and both of them had to move as a low pile of asphalt jutted out to about his mid-calf, transmuted there by alchemy. Whenever they had a sparring match with hazards, Bunny would, every so often, randomly make obstacles pop up in order to make someone trip, and generally, she tried to target both of them. It was practice for her own alchemy, and made spars a bit more interesting. She usually started small, and got increasingly tricky the longer the spar lasted.

She would probably have fun with making hazards, now, because there were things like tall grass jutting out of cracks in the ground, and while these would not impair movement, they could conceal the start of a transmutation easily.

“Hah! You missed!” He called, before him and Alphonse both nearly tripped, tiny bumps rising directly under their individual feet. Admittedly, he had asked for that to happen. Bunny still had the strangest block that left her struggling to transmute metal and stone, years after learning alchemy, but her placement of objects was extremely precise. Slight adjustments could drastically change outcomes, if they were done at the right time. She was the sort of person you never wanted to fight when she decided not to use restraint.

“Brother! Don’t make her mad!” Alphonse yelped. The chimera was not actually mad, so much as mischievous. Ed would take advantage of the momentary distraction, anyway. He lunged forward and connected his foot with the metal chest plate, knocking the suit of armor back a bit, before ducking away to avoid a retaliating blow. “Oh, _now_ you’ve done it!” An unexpected swipe from a metal leg knocked Ed’s feet out from under him, and he had to roll to get away before his brother could pin him, which would mean he lost. When Al moved to follow him, Ed was bought time to recover when another obstacle popped up from the ground in a flash of blue light.

Sparring was great, it really was.

“What would go in this…Do we have any avocadoes left?” The bar belonging to Madame Christmas was closed, but there was a unique tradition amongst the workers that had not changed in many years. Every day, a meal would be prepared in the kitchen downstairs, free of charge for any tenants who lived in the building, and the odd stray guest that was invited in. Florian, being one of the two cooks along with Vitale, was scrutinizing a large pot of broth. Today was special, in that it was the first time since he had come to live in Central that he was the one fixing lunch. All previous times he had worked in the kitchen had been for the sake of preparing bar foods during working hours, not something for tenants, his neighbors. That made getting the meal right far more important in his eyes.

“Avocadoes?” Vitale asked, looking up from where he had been chopping onions. His eyes blinked rapidly; transparent nictating membranes that slid across diagonally from the center of his face, pupils still visible, followed by his upper eyelid closing. The onions were very fresh, having a distinct smell even before they were handled or chopped, but they were clearly still irritating to work with. He was wearing his cloak, but the veil he usually adopted was nowhere to be seen. So far, Vanessa and the Madame were the only ones who knew the true extent of his alterations, but he was opting to take a risk, now. “I think we have some, is three enough? We need to do another grocery run. Sooner, preferably.”

“Perfect, we have everything we need. I have a recipe in mind.” He put the lid back over the pot to let the broth heat up, got off his stool and went to the storage area, grabbing the first ingredient he wanted from the pantry. He came back with about four ears of corn still in their husks, flecks of golden kernels showing through the green leaves. He set them down on the counter.

Vitale eyed them with something like distain, granted humans would have trouble figuring out the meaning of that slight shift in the feathers around his facial disk. Learning what those expressions meant was something that came with living in close proximity to a person whose body language was more animal than human.

Corn on the cob was a popular meal in South Area, served boiled or grilled with a few spices and butter. It was slowly catching on in East Area, but had been prevalent in the western half of Amestris for a long time, now, after it was discovered that the climate was perfect for cultivation. Vitale, however, sometimes found that foods did not taste right, since he had become a chimera. There were things that had been rendered near-inedible when they might have been favorites, in the past. Corn was one of them. Flavorless, and perhaps of little nutritional value to him, the way he was now.

Florian gave his friend an apologetic look, before going to get the rest of the ingredients. Contrary to expectations, the chimera was a good cook, but by no means did he always enjoy his own dishes. Madame Christmas was the only person who knew, however, about the taste issue. Pity got people killed for far less serious problems, but for someone who seemed so deprived in life, it was particularly unkind. It was unfair that there had to be lies about struggles, or that they had to be ignored to make the rest of the world feel comfortable. It was sad that they had deemed this secrecy necessary.

At least when he ate the meal with everyone, nobody would realize that he was grimacing. Florian would add extra chicken and lime juice to his bowl, to make it better, and fervently hope nobody picked up on it.

Vitale would, meanwhile, try to keep people distracted so nobody would ask him to remove his mauve gaiter in order to eat—he would rather not do that, even if he was going to stay downstairs during the meal. He knew people did not understand why he covered his face, but he appreciated that they had never tried to forcibly unmask him. ‘_I never knew you had stage fright that bad,’_ The words flickered in his memory, a mixture of sadness and amusement. Florian never considered himself to be ugly, that was not why he hid his features. He did have some amount of facial scarring, on account of an accident related to the mechanical teeth on one of his puppets, but that was also not why he wore a mask; though it was probably for the best that nobody knew about it, since scars were rather identifying. Florian simply felt…uncomfortable, being looked at by most people, without it. He wore masks during his performances, and felt too exposed without them.

He did enjoy when he had been a part of show business, but the way people greeted him after performances had always made him feel uncomfortable. They were spectators in his audience, but they did not actually _know_ him. The feeling of being approached as if he were familiar by total strangers was what unnerved him. When he finished a show, he wanted to disappear.

He retrieved a bag of tomatoes and a bunch of cilantro and parsley, bringing them back and setting them down, before having to rest on his stool again; otherwise he would have to stand on one leg or lean against something. The limp might never go away, but he hoped that at some point, he would no longer suffer stabbing pain that would try to make his weak right side give out. Technically, it would always hurt; that was the consequences of his injury, but he would like if the pain stayed at a manageable level, at least.

A door opened, and Madame Christmas herself entered the kitchen, “Hello, boys,” She greeted them. She appeared to be in a good mood, today; at least he gathered it from the tone of her voice. Some people were harder to read than others, and Chris Mustang was one such person. The only thing that was immediately apparent was that this woman had power, and it preceded her almost like an aura that filled the room.

That was the thing; there was always this…aura, about people, and he could guess things from it with surprising accuracy. He had no idea if other people picked up on it or not, but it was something he would insist was a real phenomenon. Sometimes, he thought he could sense someone moving before they did so, as if their intent was projected. He could know an individual by their presence before he even saw them or heard their voice.

“Hello, Madame,” Both of them spoke in unison.

“So, how’s lunch coming along?” She asked.

“Cretan chicken soup. Since it’s getting into colder weather we can prepare it without heating up the kitchen too much.” Florian noted. Seasons affected dishes, because even if you got ripe fruit year-round, it would not taste as good if it was produced outside its growing season. Corn was good near the end of summer, but now would be the time to focus on things like root vegetables. He would be sure to add plenty of carrots in the soup—they had a sweet smell even before they had been cut, when he grabbed them at the market. He knew they would have plenty of flavor just by that, alone.

“Well, it certainly smells good,” She remarked, “You’re tormenting the people that came downstairs, already.”

“Soup is only as good as the broth. Doctor it well,” Vitale murmured to the corn.

“Hopefully it lives up to people’s expectations,” Florian tentatively tested his right foot before getting off the stool, trying to make sure that the following flare of pain did not show. By the way Christmas’ face changed, he did not think he succeeded.

“Leg troubling you a bit more than usual today?” She asked.

“May have overdone things a bit. Flame is terrifying,” He answered. He could say that, honestly, without feeling any sort of shame over it. He had been burned all over, and was fortunate that Mustang had been aiming to simply discourage him from fighting; the fire had caused pain but had left hardly any damage, relative to what could have happened. Even so, that stuck in a person’s memory, and he had been nervous that he would get attacked a second time. If he was honest with himself, a lot of things during that fight felt like some sort of dream, not entirely real. He had been suffering serious blood loss, though, so perhaps that was why his perception of reality during the time had been so distorted. He was still not sure how he had managed to perform not one, but two transmutations in order to escape, before passing out.

Christmas smirked at the answer, “He wasn’t happy to find out you were here, certainly, but it worked out, didn’t it?”

“I think that’s more because you vouched for us, than anything else. I doubt he would have even given me a chance to explain anything, otherwise.” Flame had radiated anger when he entered the room, at first, but Florian was decent at thinking on his feet, and reducing the general hostility of the conversation had become a priority. The man was good at hiding his expressions, but he could tell that the Colonel was contemplating things, weighing the risks of keeping him and Vitale on his side against benefits. Inside information was rare, seldom coming without a very high cost to whoever learned it. Enough time had passed that Florian was able to safely say they had lost their pursuers, but Roy Mustang had never been forced into fleeing, in the first place. His plans depended on staying in good standing with the military.

“Fair enough, you apparently posed enough of a threat to scare him.”

“That’s because not only is he good in a fight, he intentionally makes those puppets look as terrifying as possible. All multiple rows of teeth and claws, and the _sound_. Why he never did plays in the horror genre, I’ll never know.” Vitale added his corn to the pot, and Florian gave a slight, wheezy chuckle at the assessment. The chimera rotated his head to look at him, “Why are you laughing?”

“If I wanted the puppets to be ‘as scary as possible’ as you put it, you wouldn’t come anywhere near my work area.”

The chimera sighed, and one could almost imagine that he was rolling his eyes, if that were possible, before he went on to dicing herbs. “Speaking of, Madame,” Vitale said after a brief lull, “I do think it is necessary to discuss this. What are the odds that Flame will ask us to do something that will require our skills?”

Christmas’ face became more thoughtful, “You stand out quite a bit, both of you, but people keep saying that Florian is good at disguises, and you could sneak around easily, Vitale.”

“Stealth missions, possibly,” Florian mused, walking back over to the pantry to retrieve more ingredients, “Well, I might make a puppet for that.” He raised his voice only slightly, so that it would carry as he retrieved a bag of avocadoes and a huge bunch of carrots—they really smelled lovely, he was looking forward to these, in particular.

“I don’t think a giant metal puppet is very subtle,” She remarked, watching as he put the ingredients on the counter, moving his stool and trying to locate a second cutting board.

“Well, I have ideas for different designs that aren’t so…clunky. At a bare minimum, I don’t feel comfortable charging into a situation without a good number of threads on my person.”

“I suppose I’ll leave you to the inventing, then. Also, Roy-boy mentioned over the phone that he was mailing over something that you might have interest in. That chimera that follows Fullmetal around apparently has more advanced alchemy than we realized, initially. It’s a medical array.”

Florian’s eyes widened, “…How old is she?” He asked the question with a perplexed tone.

“Eighteen, but she was fifteen when he first met her.”

“And she…developed it?”

“She did, and she shared the array and told my nephew to give copies of the notes to alchemists he trusted. You’re officially part of the network, now. He specifically said it wouldn’t do anything for your leg, but if you ever get shot again, you won’t pass out from blood loss.” She shrugged.

“A medical alchemist designing arrays like that before they are an adult in their twenties is exceedingly rare. I don’t even need to be an alchemist to know that,” Vitale commented, “Whoever taught that chimera has created a monster.”

Florian hummed thoughtfully, “Probably…”

The chimera paused in his work and turned to him, “_You_ are a monster, Florian. Don’t just say ‘probably.’” There was more teasing behind his voice than anything else. He was being dramatic for the sake of it.

That, at least, warranted a proper laugh, even if Madame Christmas was still there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Florian is only 24 years old, and Vitale is calling him a monster because he developed his alchemy prowess at a young age. Not quite as young as Edward and Alphonse, but still really early. Vitale is older, at the age of 35. Normally I would work this into the story, and I might later, but I think that would take a lot of time and I figure you might be curious.
> 
> SCRIPT:
> 
> (East Command)
> 
> Hawkeye: Breda, any particular reason you're drinking yet another cup of coffee? That's the fourth one today.
> 
> Breda: Uh, nothin, just had a really rough night *Shoots glare at Havoc*
> 
> Mustang: *Looking at Havoc* So how did your date go?
> 
> Havoc: *Bursts into tears* Charlotte! Why did you leave me!?
> 
> Fuery: Oh, I get it now, Breda, you got stuck with designated driver duty again.
> 
> Breda: I don't like getting stuck hauling my friend home at two in the morning, you know?
> 
> Falman: Drowsiness aside, I highly recommend you stop, it is inadvisable to consume caffeine past morning hours.
> 
> Breda: I'm gonna die. It's only one in the afternoon, and I'm gonna die.


	29. Like Storm Clouds Rolling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunny warns the brothers of a dangerous presence stalking them, and a new problem emerges from South Area.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to write a setup chapter, so here we go. A killer is on the loose, and our trio has a stalker to evade! Things are finally picking up!

They were being followed. Bunny was sure of it. She was so positive about the feeling, she could pinpoint exactly when the person tailing her and the Elrics had shown up, and where they were. She knew better than to ignore her instincts, when they told her something was wrong. Her and Winry both had been abducted in broad daylight in the past; just because it was noon in the middle of Laqapm did not mean it was safe. Even here, surrounded by a crowd of people downtown while waiting for Edward to look through a bookstore, something could still happen. If they were not being actively threatened right now, someone could easily be waiting for an opportunity, when there were fewer witnesses.

The thing was, there was something even more abnormal than the eerie sense that they were being watched, and that made it so much worse. It was a prickle, like insects crawling on her skin, as if the very weight of that gaze was unnatural. It was so very _wrong_ that Bunny was convinced, were she not human, she would have bolted or snarled, rather than sitting there, trying to remain calm until she could warn the brothers. Acting out would do more harm than good in the form of a dog, however, so instead she would opt for vigilance, and figure out exactly what they were dealing with. She scanned the crowd of people on the street, searching in the direction that she somehow _knew_ the stalker was in.

Her gaze quickly settled on a plain-looking man with dark hair and pale eyes, his clothing a simple long-sleeve shirt and jeans. He was not muscular or imposing in appearance, and the way he leaned back against the brick between storefronts across the street, it looked as if he were simply stopping to rest after a long walk. Bunny was thoroughly convinced, however, that this was a façade, the lack of memorability about his appearance being a deliberate choice to avoid suspicion. Even at this distance, there was something dangerous about him, and although she did not know exactly how she knew, she could tell that his intentions were aimed at her and the brothers.

By mere chance, there was a moment where they made eye contact, and the stranger’s expression morphed into a smirk that made the crawling feeling she got from his presence even stronger. She was a dog, however, so while a human meeting the man’s gaze and being suspicious would mean a lot to him, her attention meant little, when any aggression on her part could be played off as poor training. When the man simply kept watching her, as if trying to goad her into reacting, Bunny did nothing more than stare. She knew he was dangerous, she had identified him, but she had lived a full five months trapped in close proximity to a person she could not stand. She knew that sometimes, patiently waiting was the ideal decision.

“Hey, Bunny? You okay? You seem tense,” Alphonse spoke, gently fidgeting with the end of the leash he was holding. Leash laws. Of course Laqapm had to require that all dogs within city limits be on a leash, too, as if a stalker was not troublesome enough. She almost forgot that it was there, for a moment, because of how loosely the younger Elric was holding it. The chimera could hide what she was thinking very well, except when it came to the brothers.

It was a blessing, perhaps, that very few people would ever achieve the level of understanding that Bunny shared with Edward and Alphonse.

She could not speak, but she snorted, and made a noise, a type of whistling sound in the back of her throat, a barely-audible sort of whine that she rarely had reason to produce. She could not act aggressive or threatening, but the whine could be understood as a sort of discreet signal that something was wrong. Bunny lifted her head and tried to sniff the air, to see if she could pick out the scent of the man across the street, and when she did, she had to suppress the urge to shudder.

Blood. Human blood, from _many_ people. Something she could not place, too, something alive and _wrong_. If she had not known better, she would say the man was a chimera, but even particularly foul creatures did not smell artificial yet living. No matter how far-fetched, she was sure of it. The smell had to be coming from that man, and she had reached her conclusion.

This was not a human being watching them. It looked human, but no human smelled like this, not even serial killers or those who were deathly ill.

Al looked around, trying to figure out the source of her distress, but Bunny blew a puff of air in warning, and he stopped. “When brother gets back,” He whispered, hard to hear above the people passing by, unless you were right next to him. It was unlikely that their communication would register from across the street, but Al had no idea where the threat was, except that there was something she had warned him about. The chimera did not know what they were dealing with, and she preferred that their stalker think only the dog was aware of his presence.

They needed to get out of here, get _away_, and she needed to verbally tell them what was going on.

The bell to the bookstore rang as its door opened, and Edward emerged, three large tomes tucked under his automail arm, “Alright, I found a few good sources, so it looks like we’ll have a day for research.” That meant staying in the hotel. Whether or not that was good or bad, Bunny was uncertain, but she hoped the man would stay away. If he was plotting to attack them, for some reason, then…that might be exactly what he wanted. “Now we just have to figure out where to get lunch.”

“I think we should just get room service at the hotel, brother,” Al suggested, shifting slightly. “Bunny looks like she’s not feeling well.” Although that statement could be taken at face value, the chimera seldom fell ill, so it was also a sort of unspoken code between the three of them.

Edward frowned, before he reached out with his left arm and looped it as far around her neck as he could, hugging her. “I hope it’s not bad, I hate when you get sick,” His voice was quiet, and slightly alarmed. When the chimera gave subtle growl that would be rendered inaudible over the bustling in the streets, she knew he would feel it rumbling in his shoulder. His arm tightened when it registered.

Something was suspicious, but they needed to avoid letting the threat know that they were aware of its existence.

Ed sighed and backed away, “Alright, then, back to the hotel. Better call the Colonel and let him know we might get delayed heading back to East City, depending on how bad it gets. Hopefully if Bunny gets some sleep, she can fight it off. I don’t want to take her to a strange vet.” The chimera could only marvel at how good at acting the brothers were, considering they had been very poor at it, when she first met them. They were extremely convincing, now.

When they started walking, Bunny angled her snout slightly so she could watch the man from the corner of her eye. He was moving, walking in the same direction as them. She hoped he stopped at the hotel, and went no further than the building itself, because if he followed them inside, she would be even more concerned.

“It might just be because we took an overnight train, brother. Maybe you can sleep like that, but she doesn’t enjoy it as much.” Because Bunny was not actually sick, they needed an excuse for why they might quickly try to leave the city, in spite of the dog apparently being sick. Sleep deprivation always looked like the initial onset of sickness, so it made an excellent cover.

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe she’ll just fall asleep and be fine later.” Ed commented, before sighing, “We’ve never gotten room service at this hotel. I hope it’s good.” Although he could eat far more than his size suggested, he was actually very picky about his food, even beyond his dislike of dairy.

Bunny made a grumbling noise, at that. Perhaps the exact opposite of a picky eater, she was eating dog food for most of her meals. It hardly tasted _delicious_, and consuming the same exact food constantly did not make it any more appealing. All the while that she tried to focus on their conversation, she could tell the wrong-smelling man was still watching them. If he was still a normal human—which was doubtful, in her mind—he still had enough human blood scent that he was perhaps the biggest killer she had identified yet.

Al giggled, “I think you should share with her, brother. I mean she _does_ get stuck eating the same thing pretty often.” There was forced cheer in his voice, because both brothers were clearly recognizing that whatever their friend was aware of, she was deeply bothered by it. Sweethearts, both of them, trying to take her mind off of it, although she could not say that it was really working.

Bunny inwardly squirmed at the knowledge that their hotel was on the far side of town. She would have to feel the presence of their stalker and his scent the whole way there.

“Radio the station. Tell them to block all roads out of Kadayr as quickly as possible, and station people by the trains,” A woman with dark eyes and a short bob of silver and brown locks ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. Stares from younger police lingered on the glinting aluminum of her left hand, the automail prosthetic designed to be lightweight and resistant to the corrosive effects of the high humidity throughout South Area, outside of the badlands. Pink scar tissue ran up the left side of her neck, over her ear and along her cheek, trailing across the bridge of her nose. Burn scars stretched along the back of her right hand.

The military police around her did what they could to deter bystanders and prevent them from getting close enough to see, as she further examined the gruesome crime scene she had come to investigate. A State Alchemist, the second one within a week, identifiable only because of the pocket watch clipped to his belt. She assumed it was a he, at least; there were few female State Alchemists, and the attire was masculine. Clothing aside, there was nothing remotely identifiable left of the human being the corpse had once been.

Splattered. That was the only way to describe the body. It looked as if the victim had exploded from within, rather than the damage coming from some sort of external impact. It was the same way they had found the last body, five days ago, of the Scorpion Alchemist. Initially, there had been questions of whether or not he had perhaps suffered a rebound from some sort of experiment in his home, but this second occurrence pointed to the presence of a murderer. Whoever they were, they were extremely dangerous, and it seemed that State Alchemists were their target.

Colonel Cassandra Chouette had seen many terrible things throughout her military career, but this was perhaps the most brutal killing method she had ever witnessed, in over twenty years of service. It was bold, the crime committed in broad daylight, and this case would prove challenging to deal with. Tracking down people who broke the law became infinitely harder, whenever an investigation required cooperation with equal or higher-ranking officers in the military. There were corrupt officials everywhere, and she had the displeasure of trying to work with them without having her own efforts sabotaged. Everyone wanted a promotion, to the point that papers would go missing, and evidence would disappear from where it was being kept.

She would have to work directly with other similarly-ranked officers, not only within South Command, but possibly throughout all of Amestris, to track down this perpetrator, given their chosen targets. If this person was clever, they would know better than to target too many State Alchemists in the same location at once, and move around in order to evade capture. That meant they would most likely attempt to flee, at a bare minimum, to another city in South Area. If not somewhere south, then they had a direct line using the trains to the adjacent East and Central Areas. She would attempt to stop them before they could escape the city, but she was not optimistic about this. There were no witnesses or descriptions of who they were after.

This was all assuming that there were not any more people in Kadayr that met the criteria for victims, and if there were, that this individual would not simply keep killing, even if measures were taken to stop them. Given the nature of previous attacks, predicting that they would flee was not even something that she felt entirely confident in. People who were so violent as to completely destroy a body in a fashion like this, when anyone could see, did not seem like the sort to care about military police with guns. State Alchemists, though the previous victim was not known for combat prowess, were far from defenseless.

A very dangerous killer. She had reason to be concerned about the safety of people going after them, perhaps even civilians.

Chouette turned away as two officers began draping a sheet over the body, glimpsing one man leaning against a wall, dry-heaving, desperately trying to avoid getting sick from the sight. He looked young, fresh out of training; he had probably never seen something like this before. She sympathized with his disgust, but would not move to comfort him or help him settle his thoughts. This line of work demanded that military police develop a certain level of tolerance for seeing particularly nasty crime scenes. If someone had a weak stomach and could not overcome it, they had chosen the wrong occupation.

A police officer waiting at the end of the alleyway saluted her, “Colonel, I’ve radioed the station, and units are being dispatched as ordered, ma’am.”

“Good, that buys us time,” Hopefully something would turn up, but if not, things would become far more complicated.

Her second-in-command, Lieutenant Vautour, came to stand at her right side, “Are we going to call Investigations in Central, ma’am?” He asked. Black eyes and equally black hair in a crew cut, with a short beard, the tips of strands fading to a shade of red, and mixed occasionally with grey. An excellent subordinate, he had worked under her since the beginning, the only one who had neither resigned nor perished. She could see how the gazes of the younger military police lingered on his left hand, hideously scarred, and missing the ring and little fingers.

The nature of this case was different from normal circumstances, so she did not take long to answer. “Yes, given this is the second State Alchemist, I think we need to let the military as a whole know that something’s going on.” Her thought was completed by the sound of rumbling thunder in the distance, and she glanced up at the sky, which was white from cloud cover. Over the horizon to the south, however, she could see it darkening. That would explain the dull ache in her ports. “Of all the times for us to be dealing with rain,” She mused, “It might mess up the crime scene.”

“They’re sending someone now to retrieve the body,” her Lieutenant noted, before glancing back over his shoulder, “Are we headed back to the station, ma’am?”

“For now, there isn’t much else we can do except position ourselves to receive information and notify the appropriate parties,” She resisted the impulse to clutch at her elbow, where her automail transitioned to flesh and blood. Though it would help distract her from the dull pain, she would be judged for it, and that was not something she could allow. “I would hope I’m wrong, but things don’t look good about this case. Something tells me we’ve got a big problem on our hands.”

Vautour hummed a note, which could pass as him thinking, although she knew from years of working with the man that it was agreement.

When they were traveling back to the hotel, Edward noticed how Bunny kept glancing behind them, and it was difficult to resist the impulse to follow her gaze and pretend he was not suspicious. By the time they finally reached the building and got to the second floor where their room was, it was driving him crazy, although as soon as they were inside, the chimera relaxed a fraction, as if the threat had lessened. She still seemed uneasy, however. She would lick her lips when she was nervous, and the slightest wrinkle would appear at the base of her snout and between her eyes, much like how someone’s brow furrowed when they were concerned. A lot of people failed to recognize these small signs, but for Ed and his brother, they were obvious. Whatever was upsetting the chimera, it was serious.

When they were safely behind closed doors, Ed wasted no time in demanding answers, “Bunny, what’s going on? Who’s following us?” He barely took the time to set down his books on top of the nightstand.

“It looks like he stopped outside the building….but he’s still out there. I can smell it…you guys trust me, right? ‘Cause what I say next is gonna sound crazy, probably, but I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“You’ve never been wrong about a threat, Bunny,” Al replied, lowering himself so that he could unclip her leash, “You’ve always warned us in advance when someone is after us. We trust you, but we need you to tell us what’s going on. We can’t do anything if we don’t know what we’re dealing with.” His tone was serious, in a way that was unfitting, coming from Ed’s little brother. It was mature beyond his years.

The chimera took a moment, as if to gather her thoughts, and inhaled a deep breath, before speaking. Her words came slow, and even, chosen with care. “We’re being followed, you know that already, but…that’s not all. That _thing_…whatever it…or _they_ are…it looks like a man, but…he isn’t human. He doesn’t smell even remotely like a human being, and he…_feels_ wrong. It’s not a chimera, it’s something else, and it…_reeks_ of blood. Not from one person. Not from five or ten or twenty…a _lot_ more. I have never smelled so much human blood on a single creature…I don’t know what it is, but I _do_ know that regardless of what we’re dealing with, it has killed a _lot_ of people, and we are _not_ equipped to confront this thing. It’s too dangerous, but he’s following us, and he’s waiting outside the building.”

There was a long, stunned silence, with nobody moving, before Alphonse broke it, “What should we do?” He asked. The trust that existed between them was sufficient that even with something like this, Ed and his brother believed Bunny without forcing her defend what she had sensed. If humans could be merged alchemically with animals, and you could attach a soul to a suit of armor, a non-human, non-chimera creature that still _looked_ human was within the realm of possibility.

“I’d suggest calling the Colonel, and telling him what’s going on, but you know the military records phone calls to military lines. This isn’t a normal situation. For all we know the military is responsible.” The room’s flooring was carpet, but he could still see her drumming the claws on her left hand. It was extremely rare for Bunny to refer to Mustang by his rank, and Ed could not recall a time she had personally called the man Colonel to his face. She was deathly serious.

“We’re safe in here, right?” He asked, “You said he didn’t come in after us.”

“In here? I think so, but I get the feeling he’s going to keep tailing us whenever we leave. I don’t know why he’s watching us, though. I don’t know if he’s just keeping an eye on us and that’s it, or if he’s waiting for an opportunity.”

“Either way, if he’s staying outside, that was a bad move. It means we’ve got time to think of something.” He turned to look at his brother. Alphonse, if he were to guess by the posture of the armor, was thinking very deeply, his helmet lowered slightly. After a few moments, though, Ed was the one who found himself coming up with an idea. The only option they probably had, unless they wanted to simply let their stalker keep tracking them. “Hey Al, remember that time we used to go playing tag and hide-and-seek when we were with Teacher?” There were lots of areas with abandoned structures that were big enough to feel like labyrinths. It was easy to make someone go in a wrong direction and get lost.

Al gave a small nod, “I remember.” A sly tone entered his voice, “Thinking we can lose him, brother?”

“Maybe,” He mused, “He doesn’t know we’re aware of him following us, so we’ve got an advantage. I bet we could even have some fun with this.” He glanced over at Bunny, “What about you?”

Bunny’s wary, uneasy expression was replaced with a slight gleam. When she got that look in her eye, it was never good for the person it was directed at, “Tag? It’s pretty unique when you’re in a swamp. You get good at hiding either by climbing trees or tucking into roots or foliage…granted you have to carry walking sticks for that. Lots of venomous snakes, you know? Course when we were little, we’d do crazy stuff like roll in mud and cover ourselves with moss, too.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing a bit more, “We’re…seriously considering this.”

“Well, yeah, it’s hard enough for us to communicate with regular people walking around. We don’t need someone tracking our every move. I mean we’re great at communicating without words, but it’s still not fair that you get stuck having to be silent, plus,” He felt his lips tug into a frown, “You’re right, we need to warn the Colonel. Something’s really fishy about all of this, but we can’t do any of that if we’re being watched.” Being observed would heavily restrict their movements and activities, and made things more dangerous, overall. As much as he hated asking Mustang for help and owing the guy, this was a serious problem.

“It’ll be okay, Bunny,” Al told her, “We’re good at this. Brother’s right, we have the advantage. He doesn’t know you’re able to warn us, and there’s no way this guy knows how good we are at working as a team.”

“Alright, then. I think we can get away with hanging out here for a bit. If we leave right away it’ll seem suspicious.” The chimera glanced over at the window on their floor, which had the curtains closed. “Do you think if this guy is working with the military or someone else, he’s making phone calls and checking in with people?”

Al hummed, “He might. That means we need to tell everyone you got sick, even if we can't say anything to the Colonel outright.”

“Yeah, it’d be cool if you could somehow secretly send the message that something is wrong. There isn't anything he can do really from East City, I don't think, but you never know.”

Edward sighed, going over to the phone on the nightstand in their room, “Well, alright, I guess there’s no putting it off. I’m ordering room service, too, afterwards. I’m starving.” People liked to joke about him having a bottomless pit where his stomach should be, and Al constantly fussed about how much he ate, but he could not help that he got hungry the way he did. He never gained any excess weight or felt sick because of the amount, so he was convinced he was fine. Bunny never fussed about it, either, although she did warn him to slow down, occasionally. She probably worried more about him choking by accident.

As he began sliding out numbers on the rotary dial, he heard Al talking to the chimera, “Did you want lunch Bunny?” He asked.

“…My appetite’s kind of gone right now, but if I don’t eat, I’ll regret it later.” It was something that Ed had noticed about the chimera. In times of stress, she would consume meals almost mechanically, and in most cases she was not that interested in the taste of dry kibble, anyway. If it was according to a schedule, she would force herself to consume a portion, regardless of how she felt. He knew it was probably something she had learned how to do, long before she came to live with them.

He was going to enjoy causing problems for their stalker, he decided, with perhaps a little more malice than usual.

When Mustang answered the phone on his desk, he expected the call to be from another office within East Command. On top of usual paperwork, everyone was in the process of trying to develop a new budget for equipment in the military warehouses and storerooms. This forced all of the different offices to come to agreements on what would be needed for the next year, so that they could efficiently use their funds. Most of the calls were discussions about unusual, but relevant matters, such as how much would be appropriate for replacing pens; East Command offices had a running issue of archival pens disappearing if left alone for too long. It was a major factor for why many soldiers had labels with their names on writing utensils, and why people were unusually possessive, at times, of things that belonged to their desks. Those who did not label their pens would wisely carry them around in pockets or hide them in a safe location, to prevent theft.

“Colonel Mustang,” He answered with his name and rank.

It was a surprise, when the voice on the other line was Elric, instead of another Colonel in a neighboring office. _“Hey, Colonel,”_ The teen began, not bothering with any sort of formalities, _“Figured I’d call and tell you we might be late back to the office. Ran into a bit of an issue that could keep us out here.”_

“Need I remind you, Fullmetal, that your reports have deadlines?” He warned. Although he had committed himself to easing up on certain threats, that did not mean he could let his youngest subordinate get away with everything. Tardiness was an issue. Though he was a procrastinator, Mustang was careful about making sure he never had anything overdue. Perhaps he had Hawkeye to thank for much of this, given that he could feel her judging him for the mention of deadlines even now, but it was still a major problem with Elric in particular.

_“As if I’d forget the way you won’t shut up about it. No, Colonel half-wit, this isn’t some sort of thing I can fix. Bunny’s coming down with something, and we’re not forcing her on a train when she’s sick. I’m not shirking whatever missions you have waiting for us, I’m actually prioritizing. You should be proud.”_

Although under normal circumstances, people would generally lack sympathy regarding pet illness, Bunny had enough fame that she was given special consideration. There was also the simple fact that she was a human being, in spite of her appearance, and should be treated as such. He chose to ignore the fact that Elric was trying to goad him, “She’s sick? How bad?” A few of his subordinates looked in his direction, hearing that.

_“Well, it’s not serious, as far as I can tell, at least not right now. We came back to the hotel, and hopefully if she gets some rest she’ll be fine in the morning. I should’ve guessed this could happen, illness always follows cold weather, right?”_

Something felt slightly off about the wording, and he narrowed his eyes slightly, “You’ve been taking her to get vaccinations, right? I hope you know your own fear of needles isn’t an excuse to neglect your dog’s health.” A low blow, but he needed something to go off of.

_“Yes, she’s up-to-date on her shots. Like I said, we don’t know what it is! We’re gonna see if she can shake it off. We’ll be back in person depending on how it works out. Just figured you’d wanna know what was going on. You said to call if we ran into problems, and I’m doing just that.”_ Elric, who had sounded thoroughly annoyed at the end, did not give him a chance to respond before hanging up.

“Wait a minute!” He snapped, though it was already too late. He sighed forcefully, and returned the handset to where it belonged, before rubbing his temples.

“Bunny’s sick?” Fuery asked, “That doesn’t sound good.”

“She rarely becomes ill, as far as I can tell,” He replied, “Chimeras are a combination of species, and that has a protective effect from viral illness, but it’s not perfect. It doesn’t impact bacterial infections, and sometimes viruses can still make them sick. That’s why she still gets vaccines.” There was no sense in worrying his subordinates when they could not do anything, but Mustang was certain, after the last statement, that Bunny was not actually sick. The problem they had run into was something that they did not think they could say over a monitored military line, so Fullmetal had given him a convincing cover story.

He took a few moments to think it over, before it clicked. Always follows, and shaking it off…Someone was stalking them.

He clenched his jaw.

They were being followed by someone, and were going to try to lose them, and here he was over in East City, unable to do anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know what's going on in South Area, but who's ready to see an intense game of hide-and-seek/tag with Envy across Amestris?
> 
> Also, forgive me if something seems off with formatting, though I tried to make sure nothing was wrong. For some reason the rich text editor in AO3 wasn't wanting to format half my post, so I had to do paragraphs and such by hand. I really hope the issue is just related to the one word document, and not something I'm going to regularly fight with.
> 
> SCRIPT:
> 
> Edward: Okay, so, here's the plan, we're good at doing stuff at night, so we're gonna leave the city when it gets dark. Agreed?
> 
> Bunny: Sure
> 
> Alphonse: Are we gonna leave through the front entrance?
> 
> Ed: When we check out of the hotel, I think we should try to sneak out the back entrance they use for employees.
> 
> Bunny: We won't get in trouble for that?
> 
> Ed: Not if we bribe the guy in charge of watching it. I get paid enough, might as well use the funds.
> 
> Al: Okay, so assuming that works, what do we do after that?
> 
> Ed: We can try taking a night train, or we can travel through the wilderness for a bit. Your call.
> 
> Bunny: Ohh, that's a tough one. Wilderness, we can survive but we're alone, trains, you've got people around but you're easier to track. Choices, choices....
> 
> (Which would the reader prefer, let me know in the comments!)


	30. Blink of an Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward, Alphonse, and Bunny slip away from their stalker, who remains unaware. Roy Mustang worries about what hidden forces are after his people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The game has started, people. Things are going to get dicey.

Because he never went inside of the hotel building itself, it was laughably easy to get away from their stalker. Turning off the light in their hotel room so that people would think they were asleep should any of it happen to shine through the curtains, they snuck around the halls in the building and avoided going near the main entrance lobby. When they found an employee, Edward bribed the man with a generous amount of cenz to let them exit through the back. A bit of extra was given in order to pay for their room for another night, so that they could keep it booked even after they had left.

Should their stalker suspect the ruse too early, and enter and ask after an Elric, he would be told that they were still planning on staying in the city. By the time he realized he had been tricked, they would be far away, and the military would have no information on where they had gone. An additional layer of trickery they had planned, and one that could be easily carried out once they finished the first leg of their escape, was to buy a train ticket that led all the way to East City from New Optain. Once they did this, when the train made a stop at any of the cities or settlements along the way, they could get off early. People would not oppose this move seeing as they had paid, but the formal registry of passengers would be misleading if it was possible for the stranger to check it. Once they did this, they would be able to travel the rest of the way on foot.

For safety’s sake, they would not go into the wilderness during any part of the journey. They could travel using main roadways unrelated to the train, where the regular passage of vehicles or animal-drawn carts would ensure the presence of witnesses. With so little knowledge about what they were dealing with, it was unwise to do anything that might lead to an actual confrontation. While they were all perfectly capable of surviving in the woods, Edward and Alphonse had the greatest advantage in a city where metals and stone were abundant. Bunny, inversely, had alchemy that became increasingly powerful the more organic matter and water that was present, but their greatest advantage, right now, was the fact that her existence was a secret.

At the end of things, even if they lost their tail, if he _was_ military—perfectly possible, given they had no idea what the stranger even was—he would likely reappear in East City no matter what. Their hope, though, was that they would be able to discuss the issue further with Mustang without being watched. The Colonel was probably panicking to some extent right now, and it was a balm to frayed nerves, that he would be concerned enough that they could detect it in his voice. None of the three, though, felt bad about worrying him, deciding it was a sort of payback for some of the things he had done in the past. They were only doing what he had asked, anyway, and letting him know about trouble.

Bunny personally enjoyed any sort of mission or travel that took place at night, and she would probably remain a night owl for the rest of her days, if given the choice. She liked the blanket of darkness that obscured most of the city, save for the occasional lamppost; she had night vision, and there were few things scarier than herself that could hide in the shadows. While Ed almost always took the lead on most occasions, he would fall back to walk between Alphonse and the chimera, at night. The center of a line was the most protected, and the suit of armor and Bunny both were able to see better than a normal human in dim lighting.

The trio spilled out into an alleyway behind the hotel, and moved as stealthily as possible through it, passing several buildings until they reached an intersection four structures down the path. Cities, being laid out like a grid, meant they could easily choose to go down one alleyway, and emerge on a street further away from their stalker, while still knowing where they were relative to everything else. They traveled down this road for several blocks before heading towards the train station, making sure that when they came back to the main street, they would be too far away to spot from where they started.

If they did this right, their stalker was still waiting at the hotel, unaware they had given him the slip. There were few people milling about on the streets, although it became busier the closer they got to the train station. They ducked into an alleyway to talk, just to be safe.

“I think we managed to give him the slip…” Ed murmured, although he had to squint in order to see through the gloom.

“His smell isn’t following, and I’m losing that prickling sense, so I think you’re right.” Bunny was not going to try to spot him in the crowd when her nose and instinctive awareness of being watched was sufficient. There was no need for them to rush their escape, now, but even so, a sense of urgency somehow remained. “Let’s hurry up and get out of this city. I’ve got the scent, if I pick it up again later I’ll let you know.”

“What’s the signal? That whine thing?” Al asked, glancing at her.

“Yeah, I think so. From now on, if I do that, it’s _always_ because of something like this. These freaky other-category creatures.” Bunny had not the faintest idea what the man really was, or why it so perfectly resembled a human being. Even so, she would choose to wonder more about it later, when she felt more convinced of their safety. It was still too soon to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Well, let’s hurry up and get our tickets and leave, already.” They normally liked to plan a bit better, but the soonest train was the one they wanted. The earlier it left, the more likely they would be on it and nobody unwelcome could also hitch a ride.

They made their way to the train station, with its reduced, though still decent crowd of people, and Ed went and purchased the tickets. They were quickly ushered onto the platform, where a conductor was working. “So, where are you two headed?” The man asked, briefly eyeing Bunny. Although without question, the train was to Edmiritbu, there were places they could go on the rails afterwards.

Alphonse beat Edward to it, “Well, we heard someone mention something about Mutauz earlier. We want to go check it out.” He lied easily, as tickets changed hands and they were marked as passengers. Mutauz was in Central Area, opposite the direction they were going. Another thing to mislead anyone who asked for their whereabouts.

“Well, I wish you a pleasant trip,” The conductor replied, suspecting nothing as he greeted the next passenger.

The three of them boarded the nearest pet car, and within a mere five minutes, the locomotive was departing from the station, at fifteen minutes after two in the morning. They sped away from the city of Laqapm, heading south, and no other passengers were on the car. All three of them, together, stared out the window and watched as the town faded from view, and collectively, they all sighed, shoulders losing tension. Ed proceeded to slump back in his seat, staring up at the lightly-domed ceiling. “We did it,” He said, after a long, relieved silence, “We gave him the slip.”

“Quick-thinking on Mutauz, Al,” Bunny commented, “Let him agonize over where in Central Area we went.”

“You don’t think it was too much, do you?” The younger Elric asked, “I mean it could really tip him off that we know we were being followed.” It was one thing to pay for a room and decide to leave early, there was no real indication they had left at a strange time. It was unlikely that their stalker would stare at the door for hours on end. He could easily have missed them leaving by accident.

“This whole escape could count as a tip-off,” She told him, “Depending on how smart this guy is, and how quickly he realizes we’re gone. That doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world if he figures it out, though. It’s one thing if he’s caught as a human and we avoided him because he was following us. That doesn’t mean we know he’s something else.” The big _if_, here, was whether or not getting caught in the act of tailing someone would warrant violence in the future, or just more careful observation. The exact reason for why they were being stalked was still unknown.

“Man, just searching for the Stone is a pain, now this,” It looked like Ed very much wanted to sleep, but the train ride before they got to their next stop would be too short for a nap. “This won’t be the last of this guy. Wonder how many times he’ll try to tail us before he gives up.” Their greatest weakness was having a set base of operations that everyone else would know.

“You know, if we’re being stalked, I wonder how many restaurant and small business owners we can enlist to help us escape by permitting us to use other exits, without bribes, I mean. If this guy doesn’t follow us into the buildings and just loiters outside, it would be easy.” Bunny floated the idea.

“Good point, brother pays pretty large bills to eat lunch, we could probably get away with it.” Al mused. For all that he was generally not a very social person, people in restaurants enjoyed having Ed as a customer, and he was usually nicer when offered a nice meal. Bunny and their dog-handler dynamic earned them extra support from animal lovers. “What about talking to the Colonel, though?” He moved on from that. “What if we get stalked at Command?”

“…That might be a problem,” Bunny’s left hand drummed against the floor momentarily, before stopping, “Well, I guess we’re going to drop by for an unexpected visit at his apartment, then. Hope he doesn’t have any dinner plans, they’re getting cancelled.” It was no secret that the man went on dates constantly. It was well within the realm of possibility that he would have to cancel one if the three of them showed up at his home unannounced. Nobody really felt any sort of guilt at the prospect, however. It was necessary to avoid tipping off any potential spies.

Ed huffed a laugh, “You didn’t even think it over, you’re just saying we’re going to do it. You don’t even care.” His voice was amused, in spite of being tired.

“Better to ask for forgiveness for things like this. Let’s just…be careful about how we go about it. No home invasion stuff, everyone has a right to feel safe where they live. No breaking in.”

“You know me too well,” Because that would be such an Ed thing to do, breaking and entering just to annoy Mustang. It was unlikely he would be court-martialed or arrested for barging into the Colonel’s house during an emergency, but he would gladly mess with the man, given an opportunity.

_“Brother,”_ Al warned, “No.”

“What? I’m not gonna do it. It just sounds funny,” He feigned innocence.

“You _thought_ it,” the younger sibling accused.

“Okay, yeah, I did.” He agreed.

When noon came around, and the Fullmetal pipsqueak and his little team never emerged from the hotel, they went inside to check, just to make sure. They could have gone in as a random person from the street, but figuring out what was going on was far easier than that. They waited until some of the people who had been working at the hotel left the building for lunch. When that happened, they slipped into the nearest alleyway that would hide them from view, and in a haze of red static, assumed one of their forms, a young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes.

Putting on a mildly panicked face, they rushed back into the building, before pretending to be out of breath.

“You just left, something wrong?” The man covering at the front counter asked.

“I think I forgot something,” They said, their voice replicating the woman’s voice. “I’ll get it and go, I don’t want to miss out on lunch.”

“Hey, it happens,” He waved them towards a door behind the counter that led to an employee break room, and ceased to return to staring off into space. Easy. So, incredibly easy, that he would have no idea that an impostor was copying his coworker. He was not even paying attention, and failed to notice when, instead of immediately going where they were supposed to, they paused to look at the guest registry. The hotel was not exceptionally large, and it was easy to fit all the different rooms for the week onto one page on a clipboard. It was easy to scan down the list and find it.

Edward Elric, Room 13, paid for tonight. So the pipsqueak was going to leave tomorrow, unless he decided there was more reason to stay. Good. They hated trains. They really could not care less that the others were fond of such transportation. When you had lived for centuries, you recalled when the only mode of transport other than walking on foot was some sort of animal-drawn carriage. They were not exactly against technology, even if it was a thing that made humans so, incredibly proud it was nauseating. They were mostly annoyed by the times they had been forced to pack together with inferior creatures, so close that they were touching. It was hard to resist the impulse to kill everyone there, but another thing about living for centuries, they had more self-control than that.

The thought of being stuck waiting around the hotel for a whole day, though, was _boring._

They swallowed the impulse to do something to make things more entertaining, went into the employee break room, just for the sake of covering all their bases, and then emerged a few moments later, “Alright, found it.”

“Great, enjoy your lunch break,” The worker shrugged.

They left without incident, preparing to go and change their form again, and make a phone call so that there was an update. They did not want their ear getting chewed off later.

Surveillance was so annoying.

Roy Mustang was not having a good day. He was trying to carry out work as normal, but he had plenty on his mind that left him in an irritable mood. Most of his team, with the exception of the Lieutenant, was carefully avoiding making eye contact or talking to him unless absolutely necessary. He had launched into an anti-smoking lecture at Havoc already, and proceeded to snarl at Maes over the phone that ‘everything is fine.’ Everything was _not_ fine, however, but because the military recorded calls, he could not actually say what was wrong, now could he?

He had no idea what was going on, except that Fullmetal was extremely proud, and the kid, he had often thought would sooner lose yet another limb than ever ask him for help. The fact that he got a phone call with a hidden message, telling him that the group was being followed, left him a worried wreck. He had gotten no updates since then, and to make things worse, even his informants had failed to report anything. Nothing. Three teenagers, one a suit of armor and another a dog-bear chimera, had somehow managed to drop off the map. He reasoned with himself that it was possible they were simply trying to be stealthy and cover up their movements, but there was another part of him that was concerned something had happened.

Why were they being followed? With two of them having performed human transmutation, and a third being a highly-illegal human chimera that, by all means, should not exist, it would be a disaster if they were caught by the military. The Colonel felt like he was failing them, somehow, because for all that he clashed with the three, protecting them was supposed to be his job. He had no way of doing that from his office.

Mustang’s nerves combined with the current affairs at East Command to produce a bizarre sight. He was getting regular phone calls for inventory, still, but he kept answering with baited breath, hoping to hear Fullmetal or Alphonse’s voice on the other end. Whenever it was simply another officer, he wanted to snarl with frustration, and barely suppressed the urge to do so. He wound up taking it out on his team, and knew, without a doubt, he was going to buy them lunch, plus several rounds at a bar somewhere, to apologize. There was a usual back-and-forth, but this was hardly normal, and he was not fond of abusing his men.

When the phone rang again, he picked up, his heart leaping into his throat, “Colonel Mustang,” He said.

_“Hi, honey, it’s Kitty,”_ A woman’s voice on the other end. An informant.

“Ah, Kitty, I’m a bit busy at work right now,” He said, feeling as if he would bowl over with relief. Maybe she had news. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Havoc grumble with annoyance about his boss flirting. The others simply sighed, and kept focusing on paperwork. Hawkeye had that faint twitch in the corner of her eye that very few people could spot, which was universally interpreted as irritation. At her side, the index finger of a hand that was not holding a stack of papers twitched, a conditioned response from pulling triggers.

_“Well, Roy, I just had some news that I’ve been dying to share with you, and maybe you’ll have an idea of what I can do about it. You know those three little stray kittens I saw in the alley last week? I think they’re grown enough that I can take them from the mom without any problems. I thought I would ask you for help, though, since they’re pretty hissy and vicious.”_

Three stray kittens. The three missing teenagers he was worried sick about. He could feel the tension in his features smoothing over, “Really? Well, I don’t know much about rescuing stray cats, aren’t they supposed to be difficult to catch?” He heard a quiet groan from his audience.

_“They move pretty fast, and they’re good at giving me the slip. I start chasing one, and it’ll somehow be going in a different direction. Little ragamuffins.”_

That meant the three were alright, and it sounded like they were doing everything in their power to throw off whoever was tailing them. “Well, I’ll see if I can help, but I really do need to be getting back to work. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

_“Sure! It’s gotta be sometime this week, though, Roy. They’ll turn feral if we don’t catch them. I gotta go visit mom in New Optain in the near future, too. I want to hopefully get them off the streets before then…oh, I’m sorry I’m rambling again. Bye! Love you!” _The line hung up before he could respond.

New Optain, and it was only a little past noon, after they called from Laqapm. The three of them were traveling with hardly any sort of break between stops, and it sounded like they were using some amount of misdirection, too. He had to give Fullmetal’s group credit, they were surprisingly good at hightailing it out of a place when they needed to. It was possible that, without his information network, Roy would have been left completely in the dark. He could not breathe a sigh of relief just yet, but at least now he knew they were not lying dead in a ditch, somewhere.

He returned the phone to its rightful place and rubbed its temples, “I just agreed to help catch a trio of feral kittens.” Not really, but the network was a secret, even from his team, even Hawkeye.

“Oh, really?” Fuery, ignoring whatever sense of self-preservation had been telling him to avoid the Colonel today, spoke up. He always had a soft spot for animals. He had been helping one when he met the Elrics, and the Lieutenant had Black Hayate from the incident where he rescued a stray puppy. “That’s great. If you catch them early, you can tame them within a day.”

“Really? She described them as vicious.” He raised a brow.

“Well, sure, but they’re easy to win over at the right age. It’s if you let it go too long, then they turn completely feral. It’s really time-sensitive, like a single week between where they don’t need their mom and they’re wild.”

“I get the impression from the way they’re running from people they might already be at that point.”

“Well, just wear gardening gloves, or something. If they can’t scratch or bite you, it’s fine.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Kitty. Thanks for the advice,” He noted.

Havoc snorted, “You know it’s really annoying that you’re talking to your girlfriend during work, but it’s also kind of funny. Her nickname is Kitty, and she’s rescuing stray kittens. It’s just…perfect.”

“Serendipity,” Falman said, earning stares from everyone else.

“Seren-what?” Breda frowned at him.

“Serendipity. A total accident or coincidence that people would say is a good thing,” He gave the definition of the word, before returning to going over his paperwork. “There’s a nice gift shop way on the far side of town called the Cottage of Serendipity. In case you were wondering what non-work thing goes through my head, it’s the fact that everyone goes in asking what the word means.”

“Well, that _is_ a good coincidence, I guess, if you’re the shop owner. Great strategy for getting customers,” Havoc noted.

“Boys, we have deadlines,” Hawkeye reminded them. Everyone, wisely, shut up at that.

The town of Wiradu was a tiny settlement a distance from the railroad station, which was designed more for importing and exporting goods than accommodating people. The locals in this area occupied a rural countryside filled with scattered temperate forests and meadows. The fields here were not like the rolling green hills of Resembool, kept short and easy to see past, so much as overgrown pastures. The grasses and wildflowers, left unchecked, were several feet tall, and the occasional tree or bush would be present with no rhyme or reason, sometimes acting as a barrier in place of a fence post. The town seemed to be in the business of raising livestock, specifically swine.

As they walked down a dusty dirt road, they looked out into the few areas that were actually maintained, and saw pigs rooting around, shockingly clean compared to what most people imagined such a thing would look like. Ed supposed, given that the land seemed to be sectioned off into four parts, farmers moved their hogs between the quadrants, allowing previous locations to recover from the ground being dug up while the animals lived in another one. A few spots had been reduced to mud pits, and most of these held singular boars, identifiable even at a distance by their tusks.

Another thing was the insects, even though winter was supposed to be approaching, and there had been a few cold nights in recent history.

At first, he thought they were exclusively butterflies, until he realized that some of them, bearing distinct white wings with black edges, were actually a different insect entirely. Ed never thought he would describe a grasshopper as something that ‘fluttered,’ except that they wavered midair and moved in graceful little curls before landing. On the ground, not moving, they perfectly blended with yellow-brown pebbles.

The actual butterflies were bright yellow and pale white. Some of them were larger, while others were the size of a coin, and a few had black edges on their wings or tiny spots. Once or twice he saw flashes of brilliant red, but these larger butterflies were far less common. He was actually surprised by how many there were out here, but he supposed, given that Resembool was actually highly developed pastures, there were not as many wildflowers or host plants that would lead to the kind of population he saw here. His hometown was not without insects, but here, a lot of areas felt like they had been left to the wilderness, to some extent.

When they passed what looked like some sort of orchard, they all briefly stopped, startled by the wheezy laugh of an old man who was loading the harvest into a cart with who was likely a friend. He bent over from the force of his cackling, slapping his knee, and barely prepared to get a shove in the shoulder. At this distance, it was not possible to make out any conversation or what had prompted such a reaction, but they both seemed amused. It seemed to be some form of nut that they were gathering. The trees from the grove were gigantic, with emerald leaves and bark that bristled out in shaggy clumps.

The next grove of trees over was a little easier to identify, a farm that was filled with maple trees. Ed suspected they probably raised them for syrup, but he got the impression that now was not the season when sap was collected. A few trees had distinctive yellow bands ropes tied around them, but otherwise, he saw nothing indicating a harvest like the people collecting nuts. He was not even sure what the yellow bands meant, although considering they went around slightly thicker trunks, it was probably meant to indicate which ones were old enough to work with. It was probably risky to collect sap from something thinner.

“Hey!” The group of old men waved them over, “You fellers get o’er here!” It was the friend who had shoved the other man.

Ed and his brother both looked at Bunny, to see if there was any sort of indication that they had been caught up with. Thus far, she had sensed nothing in Edmiritbu, or New Optain. Even now, she seemed completely relaxed, so the two brothers exchanged glances, shrugged, and the trio walked over to the two men and their cart. “What’s going on?” Al asked.

One of the men pulled a smaller brown paper bag from the cart, proceeded to empty a bag of nuts into it, including a few twigs and leaves, and held it out to them. “You ain’t from ‘round here, but we don’t get many visitors. Fresh shagbark hickory nuts, picked this mornin’. You gotta shell ‘em yourself, but they’re good. You’re getting’ ‘em before we even take ‘em to the market.”

“O-oh, thank you,” It was very abrupt, the act of generosity, but Al hesitantly took the bag of unshelled nuts. “This is very nice of you, sirs.”

“Naw,” One of the men dismissed it, “We’ve got too many. You’re solvin’ a problem. Whole cart would collapse if we tried to load it up all the way.” They could naturally just make multiple trips, but it was amusing, regardless, that they would say it in such a funny way.

The first man wheezed again, “We’ve had the best harvest in years, stranger.” He straightened, “Well, you seem to be in a hurry somewhere. We won’t keep you.” Contrary to what Ed had been concerned about, they did not seem intent on forcing them to talk for several hours out of boredom. They had literally called them over just to give them a back of fresh-picked nuts for free.

“Hey, thanks,” Ed told them.

“Aw, git outta here,” The man waved him off, clearly not wanting to hear any sort of expression of gratitude, although his tone was unmistakably kind. He turned to his friend, indicating their talk was over. “So, as I was saying, he gets the cat, and this idiot, he dares to shove the poor critter in the mailbox. Not a minute later, Johnny goes out to get his mail, and _bam!_ This angry, spittin’ feline goes for his eyes…”

As the three of them walked away, Edward was left wondering what kind of crazy person shoved cats into mailboxes. He did not comment on it until they were down the road, Al still holding the bag of hickory nuts.

“So, is anyone going to mention the cat in the mailbox?” Bunny asked, “Just me?”

“Uh, you’re not the only one wondering what kind of story that is,” Al told her.

Ed shrugged, “Eh, probably some stupid thing they did when they were kids. Remember that time you caught like…fifteen or so lizards and put them on my bed when I was asleep?”

Bunny tilted her head, squinting, “…_How?”_

“I have no idea, I just woke up with all these little brown lizards crawling on me. In hindsight I’m glad I didn’t crush or kill any of ‘em. I tried to kill Al after that, though. I was pretty mad.” Lizards were tiny creatures, and it would have been easy for him to roll over onto one, the way he had been squirming back then, and hurt one by mistake. It was a miracle all of them were returned to the outdoors safely.

“I remember that. I just thought it would be funny. They lived on the fence,” Al told him.

“It’s not easy catching lizards though. I’m impressed you caught that many, but I would also say it’s not good to scare people awake.” The chimera both commended the cleverness and apparent skill, but tried to discourage possible problematic behaviors. When you slept in the same room, you tried to discourage any sort of warfare that might take place over disturbances to a person’s rest.

“We were like eight,” Ed shrugged, “There wasn’t a whole lot that could happen, really.”

“I dunno, I guess if you’re going to wake up with strange animals hanging around, there’s worse than lizards. We caught a snake trying to get into the house once.”

“You do keep talking about snakes. Was the entirety of Marais just infested, or something?” A lot of Bunny’s stories involved crossing paths with snakes and having to go around them, people catching snakes, or seeing them in some area where they were out of the way, but clearly present.

“I guess? There were a lot of snakes. I mean it was normal for me, but there’s a surprising lack of them out here. That, or they’re not the laid back sort that don’t care about humans. Maybe they’re just hiding.”

“Probably,” He mused.

He wished they were just dealing with a snake, and not some sort of inhuman monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You already know that the next chapter is going to be the three showing up after trying to disappear on Mustang's doorstep.
> 
> SCRIPT
> 
> Envy, in disguise: Hey, did you see a...I dunno, a hulking suit of armor and a little pipsqueak pass through here?
> 
> Train Conductor: That's...not quite a nice tone of voice, sir, but I believe so, yes.
> 
> Envy: Where'd they go?
> 
> Train Conductor: Mutauz, I believe?
> 
> Envy, walking away: Great. Just great. First day tailing the Fullmetal brat and they already caught onto me following them.


	31. Casting Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations are made to deal with the creature following the trio. Meanwhile, warnings of what could come in the future are brought to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy writing the psychological aspects of characters, and I also think this chapter yields a truer, in-depth analysis of Florian and Alphonse in particular. Also, kind of establishing what the connection between Florian, Vitale, and Mustang is, and how they relate to his work.
> 
> Speaking of this, Florian and Mustang have this very interesting dynamic that I thought over a lot before writing it. I think that these two would naturally have a very tense relationship, because of certain similarities, while at the same time being drastically different on key points. We'll kind of get to see it in this chapter.

Mustang was jolted awake by the sound of a fist hammering on his front door, and for a moment, lay frozen in bed, mind running through possible scenarios. He had many enemies who wanted him dead, no matter what the press or the country’s leadership claimed, and at any time, someone could locate his home with the intent of taking his life. Although it was a nicer apartment in a good area, surrounded by normal, friendly neighbors, his safety was never guaranteed. When the person at his door knocked again, this time so hard that he briefly thought they might actually break it down, he dismissed the possibility of a threat. Any enemy with a reasonable amount of caution would know better than to alert him to their presence.

He got up, moving quickly to change into some trousers and a clean shirt, before going to see who had stopped by for a visit. The door would probably have dents in it, if he was a moment slower. He had to quickly back away when he opened the door—which swung inward—narrowly avoiding being struck by a very familiar automail fist. It was currently hidden by a white glove, but he knew that a regular hand would have been damaged by the kind of force being put behind it. The older of the two Elric brothers, he also knew, would gladly hit his commanding officer if he could get away with it.

His missing subordinates, then, had arrived on his doorstep at one in the morning.

Automatically, he flicked his gaze over them, checking for injuries. They seemed unharmed, but there were faint dark circles under Fullmetal’s eyes, and he suspected that the three had perhaps not stopped to rest until they reached his apartment. Whatever they had been fleeing from that drove them to use so much misdirection and stealth that even Mustang’s own information network had trouble tracking them, it must have been serious. Edward’s posture held more tension than normal, indicating stress; he could read the boy like an open book. Alphonse had no expression as a suit of armor, but he grabbed his brother by the shoulders, perhaps worried for the Colonel’s safety. Bunny was more difficult to read, but her head was turned to the side, looking over her shoulder.

He did not protest when the three burst into the apartment, and shut the door behind them, before speaking, “Well, it’s nice to have you three back. I was starting to worry,” Although his tone came out sarcastic, his words were truthful. The feeling of helplessness, being unable to properly protect his people, had been crushing.

“Stop talking. We’ve run half across Amestris trying to get here before our tail decides to show up in East City looking for us. We don’t know how much time we have before it comes back.” Fullmetal did not bother with insults or shouting. His words were tense, matching the way he looked.

“Who was following you?” Mustang asked. There was no sense in wasting time with pleasantries.

“We don’t know, and it’s less ‘who’ and more ‘what.’ If Bunny says it’s not human, then it’s not.”

Mustang felt his blood chill, “A chimera?” He asked, looking at her. His mind, though, reflected back on the two creatures described by Vitale, and their abilities. There was a third, they had concluded, because the Swallow’s Song had fallen apart from an attack that would have taken place in multiple locations. He could not rule out the possibility.

“No, chimeras smell like a cross of component animals. This smells completely alien.” She gave a brief shake of her head.

“What do you mean?”

“There isn’t a proper comparison for it. It’s alive, it smells like a creature. But it’s not natural; it almost smells…chemical, metallic and sour, like acid.” Her snout wrinkled, “It has this awful aura, independent of smell, too. I can’t really explain it that well, but it’s just…a feeling I get near it. Something inherently wrong…”

Mustang was not a superstitious man by any means; he did not believe in ghosts or the supernatural, but his life had been revealing that what he considered impossible was far closer to reality than he first thought. Animals were always said in fairy tales and legends to have some sort of special sense for danger. They could see the supernatural and had knowledge that humans did not. What Bunny said was lining up with Vitale’s descriptions of the creatures with almost eerie perfection. The owl-cat chimera had never discussed scent, but he had described _feelings,_ as if there was something independent of usual senses that set chimeras off.

“Bunny said it smelled like human blood, like it killed a bunch of people,” Al was looking down at the floor, but Mustang could hear the unease in his voice. “She said we couldn’t risk fighting it, and she _never_ says stuff like that. She’s never been wrong about danger, though.” Fullmetal gave a subtle nod of agreement, shifting his weight to the other foot.

“So that’s why you’re on my doorstep this early,” Mustang frowned, “You think it’s not done, whatever this…thing is.”

“We tricked it and got away, but we don’t know where it came from, and we don’t know if it’s with the military or someone else. We could breathe a bit, going through lesser-known roads that don’t line up with the trains, but back in the city, it could show up at any moment. It’s not like it’s a secret that we’re based here.” Edward folded his arms, his eyes blinking in a slow, delayed fashion that indicated how tired he clearly was, “We’re not gonna apologize for waking you up when we’ve got worse things to worry about.”

Alphonse chuckled nervously, “Sorry, Colonel,”

Mustang could not bring himself to feel annoyed when he was far more relieved, knowing these three where present where he could actually watch them. He was, however, somewhat concerned by the visible exhaustion Edward and even Bunny displayed, “When was the last time the two of you got decent shuteye?” He asked, not bothering with transitioning into the next topic. He needed time to figure out what to do with this information.

It seemed likely that he would have to speak with Ludwig and Vitale; as far as the Colonel was concerned, it looked like whatever creatures had attacked the Swallow’s Song might very well be targeting his own people. If he judged it necessary, he would bring Fullmetal’s group to meet the two in person, but that presented its own set of challenges. The elder Elric could be extremely impulsive, and start attacking the rogue alchemist without giving people a chance to explain anything. Mustang was not sure how easily the brothers could put aside past grudges to work with someone and freely trade information. So far he was not optimistic, considering his own tense relationship with them.

“Not since three in the morning yesterday, wasn’t it? Or was it two? I don’t remember.” In some circles, especially amongst certain alchemists, people might have made fun of Bunny for having an hour’s difference in her answer, but sleep deprivation was a unique case, and it was clear that the two individuals who _needed_ sleep had gone twenty-four hours without rest.

“I’ve got a spare room that you can use. Don’t bother heading back to the barracks, I’m not letting you wander the streets when you’re clearly sleep-deprived and have someone after you. I know you carry everything you own in that suitcase.” He nodded to the fabric case Alphonse was holding.

Predictably, Fullmetal began to bristle at the commanding tone, “We went through a lot of trouble to warn you without tipping off anyone else.” A weak reasoning, but an attempt at arguing, all the same.

Trying to tease the alchemist right now would be a poor choice. He had neighbors that would complain if Edward started shouting, and someone who was sleep-deprived to this degree would not always think in a completely rational fashion. “You’ve gotten here and prevented this conversation from being overheard, and that’s all you needed to do. We can go from there.” Because it was an act of kindness, for a commanding officer to let his subordinate take a spare room when he was dealing with insomnia. Plus, Mustang did not want to let these three out of his sight, right away.

His words only earned him a silent glare, and off to the side, his younger sibling shook his head, “Brother, come on, we’ve been walking all day. Even if I don’t need to sleep or rest, you and Bunny do.”

“This ain’t a unilateral decision, you know,” A brief slip of grammar, where for a moment Bunny’s South Area accent became painfully apparent, alongside the dialect. It was rare for this to happen, leading Mustang to wonder if she intentionally hid her speech, or if it was a side-effect of living in a facility where people came from different places. When she was particularly tired, her words would become a distinct drawl. “I run on less sleep than usual even on a _good_ day.” The implication that she wanted to sleep was clear.

“It’s the Colonel’s _house_, I don’t wanna stay here.” Fullmetal finally protested, trying to argue with the chimera, now.

“Tough luck,” Mustang decided if he did not stop things now, he would have to watch two individuals who normally got along extremely well start fighting. It probably took a great deal of effort for them to have the relationship that they did, and he knew that was a constant thing that had to be maintained. The problem now being that nobody had the energy to handle what they could usually tolerate. Fullmetal did not want to stay in Mustang’s home, and was refusing to budge, and Bunny’s tone suggested she was close to snapping. “That’s an order, Fullmetal. Use the spare room, and we’ll worry about things in the morning.”

For a brief moment he worried about whether or not he would find his apartment trashed, having dared to demand that his youngest subordinate stay, before dismissing it. The three had been on their best behavior every time they went to visit the Hughes family in Central, and there was no reason to think they would be rude simply because it was Mustang’s residence. He knew that leaping to such conclusions would only end badly.

Fullmetal gritted his teeth, before ultimately lowering his head so that his face was partly hidden by his bangs, “Fine, whatever,” He turned and went to the hallway where the bedrooms were, “Left or right?” He asked. His tone came out sounding as tired as he appeared, rather than angry.

“To the right. We’ll continue this conversation later.”

Alphonse and Bunny trailed after Edward, with the chimera murmuring to herself quietly, “This has been a weird day.”

“I thought it always was,” The younger Elric, unburdened by a need for sleep, sounded completely fine compared to his companions.

“Just a feeling, it’s gonna get weirder.”

Mustang had the brief, momentary urge to let out a hysterical laugh, but did not. It was funny, and at the same time left dread pooling in his stomach.

Chimeras and their freakishly accurate intuition.

It was a night that the bar was closed, when the phone call came in, and Madame Christmas, while speaking to her nephew on the other line, told Vanessa to go and fetch the only male tenants in the building. When she entered their apartment, the door having been left unlocked, she took note of the furniture that the duo had obtained. An old, Victorian-style red sofa that had probably been repaired with alchemy was now in the living room; an ornate, delicate-looking thing that somehow, she thought, fitted the Marionette alchemist perfectly. The rug was circular, patterned with black and gold. A simple bookshelf with no ornamentation was now in one corner, and the lamps gave off a hazy yellow glow. The kitchen now had some appliances that had been missing, plus stools for the small bar that was present.

Vitale, the owl chimera, sat at a beaten desk in one corner, a wall lamp illuminating a work surface. His talons gripped a piece of wood and a bladed carving tool, slowly removing a curled sliver from the block. Tacks on the immediate walls had strings stretched between them, papers attached with wooden clips. Off to one wall there was a large map of Amestris with scribblings on it.

The chimera’s head swiveled to look at her, “Looking for me, or Florian?” he asked.

“Both, preferably, although I think Roy wants to speak to you, first.” She answered, before eyeing the map and its various markings, “What are these?” She asked.

There was a sigh, but she struggled to read the man’s face, as animal as it was. “Points of interest.”

That was…worrying, “Are you saying you would still do something, even with Roy’s plans?” She asked. They had agreed to work with Roy and support his bid for leadership, but that deal had never stated anything about being completely normal citizens. It was its own loophole, and now, the two men had nothing immediately threatening them. They had time and resources to formulate something.

Vitale paused, before setting down his carving tool, “Chimeras are not fully human, and it is impossible to reverse what has been done to us…I expect Flame to do something, should he rise to power. This could be applied to Fullmetal’s friend, as well. I trust Flame, himself, but the rest of humanity, what will they do? Suppose that all other voices disagree with setting chimeras free, or they want to monitor us or control us, somehow? We are stronger than normal humans, dangerous. We were created to be weapons, and can be argued as something too different from you. Can Flame vouch that he can prevent this from happening? Can he give us true freedom?”

Perhaps she had wanted to get angry, but these questions left Vanessa with no way to protest, because Vitale spoke only from his knowledge of humanity. He was doing nothing wrong, by stating a very real concern. “He can,” She said, although her voice wavered.

“But it’s not guaranteed,” The chimera sensed her moment of weakness, and stood up from the chair where he had been sitting. “Should the country of Amestris refuse to set the chimeras free, we will. That has been our end goal since the beginning, even if the Swallow’s Song’s ambitions were greater, and it has not changed.”

The chimera’s head swiveled to look down the hallway leading to the two bedrooms, “I suspect Florian is too busy in his work to even notice we have a guest, as usual. He’s been drafting new puppet designs and experimenting with materials. Apparently Fullmetal’s little trick of fusing the individual pieces was annoying, so he’s going to make it a bit more…confusing.”

He shrugged and went to fetch the rogue alchemist, while Vanessa tried to contemplate how she should handle the sudden flood of information. The potential that Vitale and Florian both would suddenly become enemies, if Roy would not ensure that chimeras were protected. The knowledge that Florian’s work entailed adapting it to be stronger against an alchemist that was supposed to be a current ally.

These two were…unpredictable, in one of the worst ways possible. They were sincerely kind and loyal to allies, for the most part. Florian had sent his notes about chimera alchemy along with an informant, and both contributed a great deal, within their abilities. If they were to become enemies, as easily as Vitale spoke, she did not think they would actually be happy about having to betray their allies. They would deem it a necessary evil, and grit through the emotional pain.

Then what about the chimera with the Fullmetal boy? Vitale was right, that this _did_ affect her. Would Bunny, though Vanessa had never met her, feel happy at the prospect of being reduced to a dog her entire life? A teenager—now an adult—whose every freedom had been taken away, and could only act within the constraints given by another person. Although everyone claimed she possessed a deep connection with the Elric brothers, was that enough to completely nullify this issue? If she were suddenly given complete freedom again, would she really want to be around the brothers constantly, as she was now?

She would hope Roy was already considering this issue, as Vitale returned with Florian slowly limping after him. “Let’s head downstairs, we’re taking too long, already.” She said, trying not to convey how stunned she was. She took them to Madame Christmas’ office, where the woman frowned with concern as Roy spoke to her over the phone. “Madame, I’ve brought them.”

The owner of the establishment gave a nod, before speaking, “Hold that thought, Roy-boy, Vitale and Florian just came downstairs.” There was a pause, before she held the phone to the chimera, “We’ve got a problem, boys.”

“Fun, fun,” Florian murmured sarcastically.

“We’ll leave you two to hold the discussion without us hovering.” The woman rose from her chair and a crook of her finger told Vanessa to follow. They closed the door behind them.

“Did…Roy ever say what he would do about the human chimeras?” Vanessa asked.

“I imagine he wants to make them a protected class, of sorts.” The Madame said, fingers twitching as if she were wanting to smoke a cigarette. “It’ll be difficult, if he makes it into a democracy. The majority might not like a bunch of partly-animal people walking amongst them. Shame, considering most of them are victims of a crime.” She raised a brow at her, “What did they say to you, girl?” She asked. Suddenly Vanessa was no longer a grown woman, but the girl that Christmas had found and taken in. “…Not here, further away, Vitale could still eavesdrop.” She led her out into the closed bar into the stairwell. “Alright, now.”

“Vitale said…they’ve got a map hung on the wall…with points of interest…and if Roy can’t make the chimeras free…” She drifted off.

“You can choose to interpret that as a threat, and perhaps it is, but you can’t fault them for it, either. While we’ve been working to have a good relationship, they didn’t agree to support Roy-boy out of the goodness of their hearts, not entirely. No matter how desperate they were when we found them in that alleyway, even if they let themselves be at our mercy, they had a motive.”

Madame Christmas’ eyes glinted, the same dark shade as her nephew’s, “The chimeras have a right to be furious. Just because Vitale and Fullmetal’s friend aren’t visibly in pain in some way all the time doesn’t mean they’re obligated to simply let go of what was done to them.” She withdrew a cigarette from a pocket inside her coat, lighting it and blowing a puff of smoke before speaking again, “Roy-boy is going to do his best to make sure they’re treated fairly, and a last resort is just that. They won’t act on those ideas if they don’t have to.”

“So we’re not going to do anything…?” She asked.

“No, because what they want is completely justified. We’re speaking in hypotheticals, but if this country doesn’t treat them like citizens or even like human beings, then they have the right to fight back or leave. We can’t hold them prisoner or punish them for wanting the same exact things we take for granted.”

“…Alright, Madame…” Vanessa fisted her hands, “What was Roy calling about?”

“Remember the mention of those things that killed off the Swallow’s Song?” She asked. There was a pause when the younger woman nodded.

“We’ve got reason to believe they’re following the kids.”

“So there’s a problem, then?” Vitale asked, after greetings were exchanged over the phone. The Flame Alchemist on the other end sounded tired, but then again, it was very early in the morning, and he was not adapted to being awake throughout the night.

_“I got a call from Elric two days ago, and now they’ve shown up on my doorstep. They didn’t sleep at all until they got here. Claimed something unnatural was following them that only Bunny could sense. She described it as something very similar to what you felt when the Swallow’s Song was attacked. She said it smelled unnatural, as well.”_

The chimera’s feathers pressed tighter to his body, ear tufts raising, “Dogs are never wrong about danger, Flame. Is there any particular reason, apart from Bunny’s presence, that would make them interesting enough to follow?”

The Colonel on the phone was silent for an unpleasant length of time, before speaking, _“Fullmetal, as you know, can transmute by clapping his hands. It’s related to that special ability, most likely. I can’t think of any other reason.”_

“They didn’t try to fight it, did they?”

The voice took an amused tone, _“No, they led it on a wild goose chase and lost it before coming here. It smelled worse than a serial killer, apparently. They didn’t take any chances of losing a fight.”_

“Smart kids…” Vitale murmured, “We’ve only got awareness of two of these creatures. One has bladed fingers, the other can devour anything. We don’t know what other abilities exist, but I wouldn’t rule out anything right now. I’m afraid I can only suggest that they let that creature follow them a bit longer, and pay attention to where it is and what it does. Or I can follow them from a safe distance and keep an eye on them…but only if they’ll tolerate that. You can’t do anything without full cooperation on both sides.”

_“That’s a risky move even with their cooperation, if you get spotted you could be in trouble.”_

“I can sense those things, even if my smell isn’t comparable, and I know how to stay out of sight. Florian could potentially help, wearing a disguise, though he needs time to get one ready. A bit of design work goes into it.”

_“I was under the impression that his usual face was enough of a disguise, considering almost nobody has seen it.”_ Flame remarked dryly.

“Don’t pick at other people’s neuroses, Flame. I’d rather not blow my cover consoling him from a panic attack because people see his real face.”

The Marionette alchemist behind him straightened, “I do not _panic_—” he was cut off by a look from the chimera, “…Okay, fine, _fine_.”

_“What a strange personality,”_ Flame remarked, _“But fine, if it’s to ensure safety, Ludwig has a better chance of following the Elrics without raising suspicion. I have to discuss this with them in the morning, though, before we do this. I don’t think you can fight the three of them in public if they decided to attack you, and Ludwig’s leg is ruined.”_

“You underestimate our capabilities…but the threat to worry about is not your subordinates. This thing is.”

_“Fair enough. In case they try to lose their stalker, can you keep up with them?”_

“Though scent clearly doesn’t factor as much into my world as it does for that other chimera, I am perfectly capable of tracking them. The two of us will plan out how to go about this, you bring it up with your people. We’ll work out a time and place to meet, if they agree.” He glanced at Florian, “I’m going to give the phone to Florian, now.”

_“Alright,”_

The alchemist took the phone and held it to his ear, “You realize you may have to let the three of them in on your information network, correct? You’re working with two fugitives, and we’re not low on the military’s hit list, either. I certainly hope you’ve got enough trust with them that they’ll not tell.”

_“I wouldn’t refer to it as trust so much as…mutual destruction.”_

“…Well, that’s a rather ominous thing for you to say,” The fingers of the Marionette’s right hand drummed on Madame Christmas’ desk momentarily. “I _would_ like to know what it is what would drive such beings to chase after a group of teenagers, you know. Fullmetal can transmute without using an array, and I know that’s your theory…but…how does someone come by such an interesting ability?” The question hung like a weight in the air.

_“Natural talent? A unique gift?”_ Flame’s voice became carefully even. If it had been someone else, perhaps they would have been fooled, but Florian sensed a shift in energy even over the phone.

He removed his weight off of his bad leg, going silent for a long while, before speaking again, “Natural talent, indeed.” He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling momentarily, letting it out, “Do you think they want to create more alchemists like Fullmetal, to use as weapons? Yay or nay?”

_“It’s possible. Alchemists have already been used in warfare once.”_ A hint of bitterness colored the man’s tone.

“Here’s a crazy, paranoid thought. You can choose to dismiss it, or mull it over.”

_“I’m listening.”_

“The reason they let Fullmetal into the military, as young as he is, is because they want him, personally, for some special purpose. You know they’re not opposed to human experimentation. They’re keeping an eye on him because of that.”

_“That_ is_ a crazy thought…and horribly enough, it’s one of the most sensible things I’ve heard in a while.”_

“When Bunny warns you about something, take it seriously. Vitale has never been wrong about danger. I imagine those boys will say the same about her. Trust a chimera’s instinct.” He drummed his fingers one last time, “We’ll be waiting for your call later.” With that, he hung up the phone.

There was a moment of silence, before Florian folded his arms, his eyes narrowing.

“I understand that being lied to would make you upset out of principle, but please try to calm down.” Vitale warned, “It’s likely a private matter. None of our business.”

“I understand, but…you know I told you about this before. I know I’m not stupid, but…” He sighed and shook his head, “Still baggage from when I was a kid, haven’t forgotten it. I’m not stupid, I’m _not_.”

“…No…” The chimera closed his eyes and shook his head—he could only do it with his eyes closed, because of how disorienting it could be, “You have so much going on in that head of yours, it only makes sense you’d lose track of something less noticeable. Apart from your chalk, you’ve never missed details in a fight or when it really mattered.” He reached out a talon-like hand and gripped his shoulder gently, to avoid causing injury, “Why don’t you show me those blueprints you were working on? I’m curious.”

“Trying to change the subject on me?”

“Yes, but it’s not worth dwelling on something that makes you upset. You are my friend, and I like seeing you happy. So…”

There was a pause, before Florian forced himself to relax, “…Alright. I’ve got three design ideas right now, and a few rough candidates for materials. Maybe you can help me with this.”

“I doubt that, but I’ll see what I can do, anyway.”

Alphonse, as he often did when his brother and Bunny fell asleep, took up silent vigil in the room where they were resting, sitting in a chair, holding a book in one leather gauntlet, prepared to read. Before he did this, though, he simply watched the two of them beathing, thinking about how glad he was that they were alive, and silently wondering if they were already dreaming. They had been so tired by the time they reached the Colonel’s house that they had fallen asleep immediately, Edward barely remembering to even remove his boots, much less change out of his clothes, and Bunny not even bothering with her blanket. Al had made sure to haphazardly toss a spare blanket that was folded on the bed over his sibling, and did the same for the chimera with her familiar red and blue skulls.

He hoped they were so deeply asleep that they did not have nightmares. Even though Al would have liked to dream, having gone for several years, now, without being able to rest or feel, he knew that for a person with a physical body, bad dreams could be so severe that a person would find sleep to be more like a form of torture. He remembered a few times from when he had his own body very vividly, but he was starting to wonder, the longer he went, if details were being forgotten without his notice. He knew Bunny’s fur was soft, but he had trouble remembering exactly what it felt like, even though he was the one that had come up with her name. He knew his brother had a faint scent, just like everyone he had ever hugged, and he was forgetting that, too.

He did not spend all of his time dwelling on his own loss, though.

Years had passed, and although it was entirely her own choice, it bothered Al that the Colonel and Hughes had learned Bunny’s real name, and he and Ed never had. It hurt more than he wanted to admit it did, because he really did believe that she trusted them more than that…but something was getting in the way. It was so subtle that anyone else would have missed it, but Bunny would carefully avoid speaking about certain things, or voicing how she felt, until it was directly brought up. Then, she would smile, and it would be such a brittle, pained look that made him wonder what he and his brother had done wrong, that she was somehow being hurt by them. She would do so much for them, but what she did for them, they could not do for her. She would not let them.

Ed, Alphonse sometimes wondered if he had lost that special connection with his sibling that allowed him to know what he was always thinking. He still often knew how his brother felt, but there were times when he did not, and Bunny was the one who somehow understood, instead. He knew that it was unfair, but Al envied the two of them, being able to share comfort, and he was jealous of Bunny, at times, for somehow knowing what to do while he himself was at a loss.

He knew that it was unfair, because how could they understand how he felt, or did not feel? Even if they did, they still had physical bodies, and they did not deserve his resentment for that alone.

He knew it was even worse to feel that way towards Bunny. She went everywhere with them, but was it really by her own choice? Although she had opted to go with them instead of staying with Granny and Winry, it was more like choosing one of two things that she knew would be allowed, rather than complete freedom. She could not survive on her own, so she had no choice but to stay with someone else, and be bound to whatever it was they wanted to do. She was eighteen, now, and if she wanted to set out on her own, because she _was_ an adult, she could not.

And Ed…

Al wondered if he blamed him for not being firmer, in trying to stop them from trying to bring back Mum. His automail hurt him, and whenever they got into fights, at least Al’s metal body meant he would not feel any pain, but Edward felt everything. At first he had been jealous of that, too, before realizing that, had he that ability to feel every injury, and exhaustion, he would have wished he was immune to it. He _was_ to blame for what had happened, at the very least part of it. He had known alchemy could do terrible things, and even if he was not a religious person, anyone else would have taken Bunny’s arrival as a sign, almost a sort of warning. Back then, she had been too scared to speak her mind or interfere, like she certainly would now. It had been up to Al to be firmer, because Ed would not do it without him, but he had caved, instead.

Al’s own thoughts made him sad. He had no way of properly grounding himself, except by looking at book and making his thoughts focus on something else. He could not enjoy the temperature of the room or smells, or the texture of the chair where he sat.

Long nights with no company were actually the worst part of everything that had happened to him, because when his brother and Bunny, and everyone else were dreaming, he was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some fics have it where the chimeras just aren't mentioned, or there's not very many and you send them to Greed, but honestly, if it was a massive number of people, I can't picture this being anything other than a way to dodge around a very real, complicated issue that could prevent a completely happy ending. I really do think if you had a ton of human chimeras with varying degrees of alteration, there would be some sort of debate in how they are treated, because they might not appear human and are probably stronger and even have unusual behaviors maybe. Florian and Vitale are working with Mustang, but there is an implication, here, that he will do something to fight for the chimeras if they help him. Even though Bunny was not transmuted by the military, as a chimera it would apply to her, whatever stance was taken politically by the government.
> 
> About Bunny...part of her character development most likely will entail a separation from the Elric brothers. You shouldn't let that scare you, but how it happens might change based on your thoughts.
> 
> Anyway, back to the script!
> 
> SCRIPT:
> 
> Bunny: I know I shouldn't find this as funny as I do, but...
> 
> Ed: It's milk! I'm not drinking this stuff!
> 
> Bunny: I know, I know, but look at his face!
> 
> Mustang: I go through the trouble of preparing breakfast since I had a guest, and you're going to complain about the milk? No wonder you're so short.
> 
> Ed: Who are you calling a pea-sized flea!?
> 
> Al: Brother, he didn't say that.


	32. Butterfly Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunny, somewhat sleep-deprived, holds a serious conversation with Mustang early in the morning.
> 
> A pair of alchemists seek to change the fate of their country.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a bit longer than usual since my last update! In a nutshell, I've been hired somewhere as a technical writer and am thus busier than I used to be.
> 
> This chapter is the shortest I've ever written for Patchwork Guardian, but it's entirely significant stuff, and a bit more plot.

It should have been Alphonse who emerged the earliest from the guest room, given that he had no need for sleep. Following what Mustang was beginning to recognize as a pattern, though, it was Bunny who was roaming about in the living room when he got up at five in the morning. He nearly jumped when he saw her shadow in the low light, having been more focused on heading to the kitchen to brew coffee. With her back turned to the window, not even her eyes reflected that eerie white that would have told him she was there. In spite of her size, despite not being feline in any way, she was so quiet that he would have never noticed her there. For a split second, he wondered—not for the first time—how the Elrics managed to find comfort in this, before regretting the thought.

It was still alarming, though. In spite of all his power as the Flame Alchemist, he could still be taken by surprise like anyone else, and were he not on friendly or at least neutral terms with the chimera, she could have torn him apart, then and there. He had no idea exactly where their relationship stood, even if he had no reason to think it would end in violence. After being told to his face that he had been given so much faith, he had no idea what that entailed in the end. It seemed like she had given up, in a sense, given up on _him_, in some way, and it hurt him far more than he thought it would, even now.

It was still fresh in his mind, and probably hers too. It had only happened a little over a week ago, Mustang realized with a sickening sort of fear. Winning arguments or deflecting criticism was his area of expertise, but that seemed to mean absolutely nothing, now.

At least he had managed to suppress the instinct to go for his gloves. That would have ended badly. He was not even sure for _whom_. Normally he would have defaulted to thinking of himself as the threat, but right now, he was not sure. When he really reflected on things, he knew almost nothing about what the chimera was capable of.

“Good morning,” Bunny spoke quietly, a faint flash of teeth in the low gloom when her mouth moved. There was a sweet note to it; she knew she had startled him. She seemed to enjoy scaring people, he had noticed, after years of interaction. She knew what kind of effect she tended to have, and when she was not playing the part of a loyal pet, seemed to revel in it. Mustang was uncertain if that was something he should be concerned about or not. She had never been actively malicious in her behavior, as far as he knew. He hoped she never was.

“I thought you went a very long time without rest. You’ve hardly had enough to make up for it, and unlike me, you aren’t expected at the office so early that you have to be awake right now.” He pointed out, ignoring the constricting feeling in his gut.

Her head tilted, and his eyes adjusted enough to the dim lighting for him to see the way her snout wrinkled, “A certain smell is in the city, so whatever you’re planning, if you’ve even got a plan, we’re running out of time. We don’t know how much we can test our luck before we’re found out or someone gets hurt.”

That was…not good news, “I suppose you were right, they have a link to the military, somehow.” In the past, he might have been hesitant to leap to conclusions, but now, he was finding that it was perhaps safer to take certain information for granted. There were too many conspiracies with evidence for him to think that nothing suspicious was happening. He had always known that the military was bloodthirsty, but now it was so much worse. “How close is it?”

“Not in the neighborhood, but moving around and searching…it’s safe to say it probably can’t track by smell, whatever it is.” Her expression smoothed out, “Mustang, mind if I tell you something? I can’t tell the boys this, and I don’t think anyone else is going to get where I’m coming from. I know we don’t exactly get along, we probably wouldn’t want to associate with each other, were it not for Ed and Al and our situation. But…in spite of that, you…actually understand me at times, more than anyone else I’ve met.”

Mustang did not think he did, but for some reason, Bunny believed otherwise. It hurt, a bit, that she immediately thought he would not want to associate with her at all, or that she felt that way. Now that he knew the chimera, he honestly thought that if she were to disappear, he would be disappointed. He could not exactly say why, because she introduced immense amounts of stress into his life, and their interactions alternated between friendly—almost back-and-forth banter—and cold judgement. For a moment, he wondered if perhaps Bunny thought badly of herself as a person; was she assured of her existence, or did she condemn herself harshly for something he did not even know about?

She had reasons to carefully conceal when she was struggling, to hide moments of weakness except in front of a select few. A person should have had support when they were suffering, but Bunny was justified in thinking it was dangerous, compared to any other individual in existence. She suffered in silence, all for the sake of survival.

“What is it?” He asked, not asking _why_ she felt he was the best person to speak to. He doubted that he would understand, even if she told him.

“Ed and Al…you know how they feel about fighting, about Ed being a State Alchemist, and what he has to do, if he’s been ordered. You know what their resolve is.”

A State Alchemist was a human weapon. They were living, breathing people, but when turned loose they could be used for mass slaughter easily. Fullmetal swore he would not kill, but if compelled, he would have to. Mustang saw no way out of it, not without being branded a traitor, or being punished.

“Yes,” Naïve, to think they could be above the ways of the world, “I hope that Fullmetal never sees a battlefield…but he knows what he was getting into.”

“You also know about how we’re trying to get their bodies back, and how strongly they want to pursue that goal. I’m sure you’ve wondered by now about what I think about all of this. What I think of myself…because the boys aren’t the only one who got messed up by alchemy.”

He had, but now he had a bad feeling about the turn this conversation had taken. “Go on.”

“I…” She seemed to contemplate her words for a moment, “They…often tell me, about being able to be human again…they bring it up, every so often. And they talk about other things, too. Me finding someone, getting married…and…it’s okay, that they have things they dream of beyond this. There isn’t anything inherently wrong with it…except…I don’t…_want_ what they want. I want them to have their bodies back, but their idea of what a happy future is, what would make _me_ happy, that isn’t something that matches, and I have no idea how to explain that to them. I have no idea how to tell them, without making them upset, or getting yelled at.”

“Well, what is it, then, that you really want?” Some women did not want to marry, and already, Mustang knew that a chimera would perhaps have plenty of mental roadblocks that closed their mind to that, even if they might have wished for it at one point. Being transmuted was a violation of autonomy, and being a chimera also entailed that a person was not entirely human—in some sense a different species. A perspective like that would twist and pervert what would have been normal. Bunny probably could not bring herself to even think of the concept of something like romance—it would be sick, _wrong._ That was from her transmutation alone, not even taking into account whatever horrible things she might have seen in the orphanage, or at least been aware of.

Hearing the Elrics talk about something as innocent Bunny falling in love was probably like a hot brand.

Bunny thought for a long time, before answering, “I can’t be human again…because…while Ed and Al, they largely lost things, being a chimera is…it’s not the same as what happened to them. My sense of smell is so important that if you sent me back into the way a human is, it would be like putting out an eye. I have all of these instincts and I know I’m different from whoever got transmuted. Trying to make me a regular human again…you can’t take me apart, without destroying me completely. Even if you’re left with a human being at the end of things that’s still alive, it wouldn’t be me. I’ve said it once…a long time ago, but I don’t know if they actually understand how serious that is. What I’m telling you, though…it’s not about possibilities, it’s about how I personally feel, and telling you that not _everything_ about this body was a horrible thing.”

“But it’s not fair for you to live pretending to be a pet forever, either,” The Colonel pointed out.

The chimera gave a shake of her head, “No, and as much as I wish that I could be close with Ed and Al forever, that’s impossible. They’ll grow up, go their separate ways, and probably marry and have families of their own. There isn’t a place for me in that, not one that I can be satisfied with. I can’t be the family pet and be taken care of all of my life. My presence would only cause problems.”

“So what is it that you want, then, Bunny? You can’t be a dog, but you don’t want to be human either.” It seemed like an impossible thing that she wanted, although as an idealist, Mustang had no right to condemn her for it. She had been restricted her entire life. More than anyone else she deserved to have a choice, after everything she had been forced to endure. There was no equivalence in trying to dictate what would be happiness for her, when she had largely suffered because of other people.

“I want to be a _chimera_, Mustang, and I want the people around me to accept that being human, living life like a normal human, isn’t my ideal anymore. I don’t want to constantly suppress my strength and instincts everywhere I go, I want to live my life where they’re serving a purpose.” She thought for a moment, “I need someone or something to protect. I am a chimera created for that purpose, and it’s an instinctive need that _screams_ at me. I won’t join the military, that’s tainted…but…I can ensure people’s safety, somehow. I could go up north and help people with supply runs to remote places, anything where they need someone who knows how to fight. I haven’t really figured that out, yet, but I know I can’t stay here.”

Mustang hummed thoughtfully, contemplating this, in addition to briefly wondering if this was how a parent felt, watching their older child struggling to find their place in the world. He felt like he was filling that role, in some way, and for that reason he felt far greater weight would belong to his answer than usual. He could not think of a solution not linked to the military. He had not even known that Bunny would have clear, solid ideas about her future. She knew exactly what she wanted, which was perhaps the best thing, but _how_ she would have such a future was uncertain. “It’s good that you know what you want from your life, and I respect that.” He told her, “If you ever want to talk to someone, though…don’t be afraid to approach Hawkeye or anyone else in my team. If you asked them to keep it between just you and them, they would.”

He understood why she spoke to him, a bit. This was about Bunny. It had nothing to deal with the Elrics. It would _affect_ the brothers, but what the chimera did with her life was, ultimately, not their choice.

“Maybe Hawkeye, but…just…don’t tell Hughes.”

He frowned, “Why not?”

A brief tail wag, “You didn’t even try to deny that you would have done it.” She was amused, before becoming more serious, “Hughes is…well…he’s good for Ed and Al, but…he’s not right for _me._ His advice. He’s being a little bit like the parent, for them, and that’s…not a bad thing, but…he can’t do that for me. It doesn’t click.”

Mustang regarded her quietly, thinking that in some ways she still seemed like a child, though it was hardly her fault, when her existence remained dependent on someone else, and those people she depended on were children themselves. He contemplated this for a few moments, before sighing, “I didn’t think I would, but I do understand.” He finally told her.

Bunny’s ear twitched, and her gaze turned to the hallway. It took a few moments, before Mustang registered anything himself. The clunking of metal armor alerted them to Alphonse coming into the room, “Bunny? Colonel? What are you talking about?” He asked, the hollow eyes of the helmet regarding them in the gloom. “You didn’t even turn on a light.” He noted.

“It’s been a few minutes, not really that long,” Bunny responded. Everything about her tone and posture changed, troubles shoved away beneath a convincing façade. The younger Elric could be surprisingly sneaky, if he moved very slowly, and Mustang suspected that, no matter how ‘normal’ the chimera was acting, or how good her hearing was, she was wondering just how much Alphonse had caught of their discussion. He may have heard nothing, or only a tiny snatch of their words near the end; he could have been eavesdropping.

Bunny surprisingly kept much of her inner world secret, far more than he thought she did, in front of the brothers. She would never ask, though, what Alphonse had heard. Asking was a dead giveaway that the Elrics were not meant to hear, and the brothers were the sort to keep investigating, rather than drop the matter.

“Oh, right,” It took a long time for the Colonel in the past to link in his mind the slightly fidgeting suit of metal armor to a young boy, but it was obvious now that Al was affected by the awkwardness of the situation.

Mustang decided, out of respect for Bunny’s privacy—_he had messed up before, he needed to not do it a second time—_he would change the subject to something believable but still relevant. “The thing that’s chasing you is in East City now. It got here quickly,” Far too quickly for his liking. “I do have a plan for dealing with this, even if it’s short notice, but I’m not going to repeat myself. I’ll wait until Fullmetal is awake to tell you what it is.”

Alphonse hummed thoughtfully; sometimes, Mustang could see how the trio of teenagers affected each other, minor incidences where little tics or mannerisms were being adopted by someone other than the original person who had them. That head tilt was entirely Bunny. He could not recall a time that Fullmetal’s grin, all teeth and sometimes with the faintest curl to his upper lip, showing his canines, was not feral in the same way as the chimera. Sometimes he thought the majority of Bunny’s temper came from Edward, as if his own willingness to express anger was somehow permission for her to experience her own.

“I’ll probably cook breakfast, it’s been awhile since I had guests other than Maes.” He noted, deciding he needed to do something else. He _still_ needed his coffee.

Early in the morning, before the sun rose, was the best time for someone to be active if they were engaging in suspicious activity. A man with dark hair pulled into a ponytail, a wisp of it loose and trailing down his face, lurked through the roads of Central, his form hidden by his dark grey cloak. If anyone had been looking closely, they would have seen that it concealed military-issue boots and a uniform, the sleeves hacked off one arm, and rolled to the elbow on the other. The sleeveless arm was clad in a metallic gauntlet. Suspicious, a dead giveaway that the individual was dangerous.

_Reckless_, he would have been warned, had he been working with someone else rather than alone. A different hairstyle or a disguise would have been wise, and certainly it would have been better to wear civilian clothing. Even so, he wore the uniform. He knelt down over a manhole cover in the middle of an alleyway, which led down into the sewers below, and with a piece of chalk, began tracing an array. An errant gust of wind blew scraps of cardboard along the alley; he would use them to hide the evidence, nobody would think twice of a bit of trash lying in the middle of a road.

The sound of boots scraping against the stone bricks of the alley made him straighten, and the man’s free hand tightened into a fist. His whole body tensed, ready for a fight.

“What are you doing?” The voice was flat, but not cold, strangely. It was smooth, almost like velvet, and easy to hate, for how pleasant it sounded to the ears. There was something warning, though, in the question. It was the same sort of tone that would have been used if a parent caught their child doing something wrong. The owner of the voice sounded like a man younger than the alchemist, which somehow made it worse. As if the elder was somehow less responsible or mature.

The rogue soldier sighed, slipping his chalk into a pocket and turning, looking over his shoulder. A man dressed in black trousers with a pale grey sweater, a deep royal purple scarf around his neck, separate from the black mask that covered the lower part of his face. He wore durable black leather gloves, and his long, glossy hair was in a loose ponytail. His weight was shifted more heavily onto one leg, and with one arm he was holding a brown paper bag of groceries.

“Who are you?” He would have shouted the question in anger, except he was not finished with preparations yet. If he had drawn enough arrays, he would have used his alchemy to freeze or boil the man’s blood, killing the witness. Drawing an array in itself was not a crime, however, and it was only the tone that this stranger spoke with, that gave any indication suggesting he knew that something was amiss.

“Doesn’t matter, really. I don’t actually have any control over what other people do. I just get this sense that you’re doing something wrong. Call it a hunch, I’m usually right.” The man winced visibly when he shifted his weight; it seemed he had an old injury. He was carrying a bag from what must have been an early-morning market, which would have opened not very long ago. If the markets were open, then he needed to hurry, before the sun rose and he was forced to stop for another day.

He could kill this man, if he wanted to. It would be equivalent, right? Something had to be given up to get something of equal value. Surely the lives of a country’s citizens, innocent or guilty, would be a fair trade to end the disaster that was supposed to come in the future? Except something about this man, as lazily as he seemed to regard the alchemist whilst holding a bag brimming with vegetables, felt dangerous. It was an eerie, disturbing feeling that he did not enjoy. It reminded him far too much of the battlefield for comfort. The stranger’s dark eyes betrayed little of what he was thinking.

“This is the only way,” The alchemist growled at him, “This whole country—it’s…”

“Corrupt? Mad? Unethical?” The words were spoken easily, “Oh believe me, I’ve heard plenty of words to describe it. Used some of them, too. I don’t think you’re going about things the right way, though. People tried to do what you’re doing, and it didn’t work. I’d suggest stopping while you can.”

The alchemist stared, before bursting into hysterical laughter. This man did not _know_, and yet he did know _something_, or he would have never responded the way he did. Who was he? The alchemist did not think he was going to get a proper answer. “You have no idea what they’re planning. You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew.” He should probably kill this person. He was dangerous. Except he had this feeling if he tried, he might actually lose_._ He could not use the little thing he had been saving in his pocket for this. It would crumble if he was careless with it. It was a limited resource and he could not get more. He had kept it for years, for the right moment.

The stranger hummed, shifting his weight and the groceries again, “Are you working alone? I don’t sense anyone else.” Sensing people, now?

“I’m enough for this, all by myself.” The alchemist asserted.

“Well, though I’m curious, I don’t think you fully understand your enemy, either…leave the array, blot it out, even. Follow me, if you want to be smart about things, _at a distance_, and make a note of where I go. Don’t come visit today, don’t visit this entire _week_, even. Ditch the uniform, and find an alternative for that metal…_thing_ you’re wearing.” The alchemist hurriedly tucked his gauntlet-covered arm under his cloak, gritting his teeth.

“Who are you?” He demanded.

“Someone with better connections than you, and I’m not going to tell you my name, unless you actually do as I suggest. I’m not wasting my energy, my leg is killing me.” He was leaning more heavily to one side, and when he turned his focus on his path again, he walked with a discernible limp. It was bizarre that the stranger was not using a cane, as bad as it was, but perhaps he was at no risk of collapsing so long as he grit through the pain. As long as he stopped to speak, carrying additional weight with one arm, he must have had a reasonable tolerance for it.

“Why should I follow you?” The alchemist demanded.

“Because if you know something, and act recklessly, you are going to die. I don’t care how confident you are.” The man kept walking and turned the corner, and the rogue soldier realized he had missed his chance to do anything about having been spotted. His gaze lingered on where the pale man had disappeared to, and then he looked back to his array, thinking deeply. A person with a bad leg could not move very fast, and it would be easy to catch up to him, but even so, if he did not make his decision _now_, he would lose…whatever opportunity he had.

Was a week safe? There were two spots that, to his knowledge, were still safe. He did not know for how long, though. They could be attacked tomorrow, for all he knew.

It took a full-scale battle to get the kind of bloodshed that was desired, though.

Gritting his teeth, the Freezing Alchemist scratched his boot against the chalk lines of his swirling array, wiping it from existence.

He did not want to think about it, but if he somehow died, it would be a shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this idea that Florian is like...a goofy-yet-smart theater guy to people who know him, but he's all mysterious and scary to strangers.
> 
> Who thinks that the death of Isacc McDougal, the Freezing Alchemist featured in the initial Brotherhood, was an incidence of a character with a lot of potential, and it was a shame he died right off the bat?
> 
> SCRIPT:
> 
> McDougal: Why is he going to a hostess bar of all places? I don't wanna be seen in there!
> 
> Vitale (In disguise): Good morning, sir!
> 
> McDougal: *Undignified screech* Ah, Good morning! Nice day today, but I've got somewhere to be
> 
> Vitale: (Watches the stranger fleeing) Florian, I hope you know what you're doing...


	33. Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week after arriving at Mustang's, the trio, with Mustang and Hughes, attend a meeting in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wound up deciding to write more than one chapter on this part of the story, because it would probably be too long and I do want people to realize that I just take forever to update, I haven't abandoned the story or anything. Also, dramatic flair is pretty important, right?

The week that followed passed in a hazy sort of blur, spent mostly on Edward and his brother’s part trying to keep Bunny calm, as the strange, bloodthirsty presence that had been stalking them left the chimera in a constant state of alertness. She no longer fell asleep against their legs anywhere in public, and even in private, the slightest noise would wake her. Even in the office at East Command, her behavior was abnormal, stand-offish with people, and unusually quiet. There was not a single person who did not find it concerning, and Ed was frustrated by the fact that, with the vague mention of ‘connections,’ the Colonel still made them wait an entire week to make some sort of arrangement.

Bunny was convinced that she knew what the nature of the thing chasing them was. It wore different faces, but it could never change the way it smelled or the raw malice that it gave off. It would take the form of something unassuming or harmless. Sometimes it looked like men who were not particularly muscular, or older women in their floral dresses; it took the form of a cat, once, and they knew it could become any living creature. If it were anyone else telling Ed that a _shapeshifter_, of all things, might be stalking him, he would have thought the chimera was going crazy. He knew, though, that there was an abrupt change in his friend’s behavior that was impossible to explain, except that she saw something, somewhere, as an imminent threat.

When they told Mustang, three days after they arrived at his house mentioning a stalker, he had frowned and gone even paler than normal. He had relayed the information to the people they were supposed to meet, and finally, gave them a meeting time and location, with clear instructions that he would send them on a mission that was less urgent, and they would use the travel to obscure their movements. They could not risk compromising the meeting by having their tail watching them when they finally _did_ meet these new people—whoever they were.

Now, Ed, Alphonse, and Bunny were standing behind Mustang, who was wearing plainclothes, and Hughes, similarly dressed in casual wear, wondering what was happening that would warrant going into the _woods_, of all places, near Central. Not anywhere in the urban environment, but a small clearing away from everything. It was as if nowhere within city limits was safe, and that was far more concerning than Ed wanted to admit aloud. The only light they had was a single lantern that Hughes was holding.

As much as Ed knew he was capable of surviving in the wilderness, the entire place was ominous and it was only getting darker, the group having arrived from separate locations right at sunset.

“This is a weird place to arrange a meeting, Roy,” Hughes commented, breaking the silence; it was very quiet, as it was getting colder outside with approaching winter. There were no insects or frogs that they could hear. Only the occasional, eerie sounds of owls, and whatever might be going through the brush, unseen.

“Well, they didn’t want to take any chances. Fullmetal, Alphonse, please be respectful and do not hurt these people. They’re on our side, but you might recognize one of them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ed demanded, “Why aren’t you including Bunny?”

“Because Bunny doesn’t blindly rush into conflict.” He responded bluntly.

The group fell into silence, at that, with Ed still feeling irritation bubbling beneath the surface, before a shape emerged on the other side of the clearing. In spite of himself, he jumped, because he heard absolutely _nothing_, not the rustling of leaves or even footfalls as the stranger approached. They made no noise at all, and their entire form was concealed beneath a black cloak and hood; even their entire face was hidden beneath a matching veil, and in the deep shadows of the trees and the stretching figures cast by their lantern, they were practically invisible.

“Vitale, good to see you,” Mustang greeted the stranger politely—a man, then. It was hard to tell, the draping cloak hiding any discernible features. The Colonel frowned, trying to scan the trees, “You’re missing someone.”

“Untrue, he’s simply waiting a bit of a distance away, to make sure that it’s safe. Our…other friend we made recently, we brought him here as well.” The stranger had a deep voice, with an unusual accent. The closest Ed could place it to was however Major Armstrong spoke, but even then, that was not quite accurate. The way some of Vitale’s words were spoken had completely different pronunciation.

Mustang’s expression darkened, “Are you sure we can trust him?” He asked.

“Well, we’ve only known him for a day, but better to have him with us than going rogue and causing trouble…please kindly ignore the hypocrisy that statement.”

Hughes snorted, at that, “It’s good to see you again.” He said, “So that’s your usual getup when you’re in disguise, huh?”

“A bit annoying, I’ve been mistaken for some sort of cult member, but I don’t harm anyone so people leave me be.” Vitale visibly turned his head, whatever gaze was hidden beneath the draping fabric inspecting Ed, his brother, and Bunny. “Edward, Alphonse, and Bunny. I’ve heard a lot about you three.” At that, Ed shot the Colonel a brief glare, before returning his attention to this stranger who apparently knew a lot about him, while he knew almost nothing himself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Bunny spoke aloud, then, for the first time since they had traveled here. She had been unusually quiet, which was, unfortunately, far more common lately than normal. “You’re…” She drifted off for a moment, and Ed realized she was at a loss for words, “…I’ve never…I know your scent, but…”

“…I admit, as awful as it is, I am glad to see another person like me. There are some things regular humans will never completely understand.”

Al jolted, “You’re…a chimera?” He asked. “Bunny,” He turned to look at her, “You know him?”

“Not directly,” She shook her head slightly. “That means the other scent here is…” Her attention drifted, scanning the forest.

A familiar voice came from the darkness behind Vitale, a bit in the distance, “Is it safe for us to come out now?”

Ed also knew this voice, and when he recalled its owner, he tensed, “_Marionette?”_ He hissed. His mind flashed to images of metallic creations, and the ease with which they sliced through flesh and bone. All in one fell swoop several people had died to them. Ed had seen people killed in front of him before that, but he never forgot when it happened. The alchemist controlling the puppets had been hiding up on another floor, but he knew who had been controlling those glowing blue strings.

A leather gauntlet landed on his shoulder, “Brother, I don’t like him either for what he did, but…” He knew. That did not make killing right. Murder would always be wrong, but there was clearly some part of the puzzle they were missing. Bunny was _lucky_, in some ways. Her existence could be hidden far more easily. They had no idea what it was like for actual chimeras made directly by the military. Vitale was likely one of them, unless there were more lunatics running around like the person who had transmuted their friend. For whatever reason, Ludwig was working with a chimera.

Murder would always be wrong, but the world was far from black-and-white.

“Yeah, I know,” He assured his brother, his words dropping into a murmur. This was their contact.

The bushes rustled, and the Marionette, when he emerged, was not wearing his signature gunmetal mask, but his face was still covered. He wore a forest green wrap of sorts that hid everything beneath his eyes, and his shirt and trousers were a dark shade of brown. All identifying tattoos were hidden beneath long sleeves and gloves, and his hair was down, a few dead, broken leaves tangling in it from where he had been hiding. Had Ed passed him on the street and not known who it was, he would have completely ignored him.

Florian was dragging with him another man by the shoulder, this individual having a slightly bulkier build, his hair done in an odd sort of ponytail with one wisp that hung in his face. His eyes were blue or grey, it was hard to tell in the low light. He was older, that much was apparent, and he was clearly annoyed at the younger man pulling him along. “Whether or not you get to stay is up to Flame, ultimately, but I will warn you now,” Florian let go of the man’s shoulder, and immediately the stranger began to rub it, as if Ludwig’s grip had been particularly strong, “If you have any reason to believe you will run off and act on your own in a way that puts the people here in danger, then leave this forest now, and do not speak of what you have seen.”

The man gave him a hard look, “And if I do what I want anyway?”

“I will kill you.”

Ed felt a prickle like ice in his chest. It was a clear threat. It was not in any way directed at him or anyone he really cared about, but the ease with which the Marionette made it, his voice firm and even, was disturbing. He was deathly serious.

There was no doubt in Edward’s mind that Florian meant it.

The man gave a quiet chuckle, and a small grin that looked somewhat deranged, but he leaned back slightly, betraying that he was at the very least unnerved. “Yeah, sure, whatever, like you’d even leave a scratch on me.” His nervous laughter tapered off when the alchemist did nothing more than hum in reply. It was absent, attention on the issue already gone.

“Colonel, what’s going on?” Al asked.

“Ludwig and Vitale showed up some near where some of my contacts live a while back, and they’ve been working for me since. The military is more corrupt than we thought, and although they aren’t completely innocent, they’re also victims.” Mustang eyed the third man, who was brushing crushed dried leaves from the beige button-down he was wearing, “Isaac McDougal, the Freezing Alchemist. Last I heard you resigned and went rogue.”

“The Führer’s crazy,” Isaac said, “I’m new to this whole…chimera thing, but that dog’s talking,” He looked at Bunny, “And I’ve got no idea what you look like.” He pointed, rather rudely, at Vitale. “I think that proves my point.”

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel insulted or not.” Bunny commented, before continuing, “Look, we’re meeting here because a _shape-shifter_ of all things is stalking us. Can we just talk about that? Please?”

“Bunny’s right,” Hughes interrupted, “I think we’ve gotten our introductions out of the way. Roy, let’s go ahead and sort out our plans, and _then_ we can chat with Freezing.”

“Right,” Mustang nodded, before turning his attention to Ed, Al, and Bunny. “The plan we’ve developed is mostly gathering intel. We haven’t figured out a solution for getting rid of your stalker, unfortunately. That in mind, we decided the best thing we could do was have Ludwig and Vitale follow you from a safe distance, identify your tail, and follow _them_. Potentially we can learn something that way: who they’re reporting to, and where they come from. Their skills and abilities are uniquely suited to the task.”

Ed frowned, “That’s what you came up with? Look, Colonel _genius_,” The word dripped with sarcasm, “One of them can’t go in public without being covered up and his disguise isn’t discreet at all, and the other looks like he doesn’t want people to see his face.” Because why else would Florian still be covering at least the lower half of his features? People did not consider Ed to be the sort to understand that sort of thing, but then again, most people did not feel ashamed of automail limbs or have something to hide. Florian _acted_ like he did.

“Ludwig did stage productions and knows how to make costumes, and that includes convincing masks. As far as I can tell, he only feels bothered if his real face is visible. Vitale wouldn’t do a good job during daytime hours on the street, but he can effectively follow someone at night or on rooftops. You’ve no doubt noticed that he doesn’t make any sound when he moves.”

“I can eavesdrop,” When the cloaked chimera lifted a hand, the sleeve fell back to reveal long black gloves with metal-tipped claws, hesitantly gripping at the edge of his veil. There was a moment where his hand lingered there, hesitating, before he pulled it back, revealing an owl’s face with slit pupils. “I can identify the source of a noise more easily than most. If your stalker tries to communicate with anyone, I’ll pick up every word. I intend to focus on whenever they’re near a phone booth or means of contacting people”

He really was another chimera. Ed had only ever seen Bunny, but Vitale was another human chimera, like her. It was easy to forget when everything was hidden by clothing, but Ed was struck by the realization, then. He looked exactly like an owl, the only difference was that his eyes were gigantic feline slits. Apart from the faint movement of feathers and slight changes in the eyes, it was hard to tell exactly what Vitale’s expression was. It probably caused issues.

“Woah, you’re a real freak, huh?” Isaac commented. Ed saw the chimera’s ear-tufts raise slightly. He did not think that was a positive reaction.

“I don’t know that I like this man,” Bunny decided aloud. “That was very rude, sir.”

“Look, lady, I don’t know how else to take this. I didn’t even know people _could_ transmute humans into chimeras…I mean I guess in theory? But this is…a lot of stuff to process. I just learned about it.” The words were rough, but held a note of sincerity, “You’re gonna have to forgive me for saying the wrong thing, because I’ll probably keep doing it for awhile.”

Bunny evaluated him with a calculating stare, humming, before responding, “Very well, try to pay attention, then. For future reference, my name is Bunny.”

“No way that’s your real name.”

Ed hated acknowledging that he felt a little stab in his heart, at that. He didn’t know what Bunny’s real name was.

“It was given to me.” Ed was not sure how to take the tone Bunny used, then. Something serious, even a hint of reverence. A name that she did not choose for herself, but one that Ed had picked alongside his brother and Winry, years ago. Perhaps she placed more value on it than he thought she did; maybe it was more than just an attempt at hiding her real name. She said it like it _meant_ something.

Whatever it was, it made Isaac go silent, as if he could not find any way to argue.

Bunny returned her attention to Vitale, “I suppose it’s relevant to ask how much you’ll be tailing us. We get sent on field missions a lot, and even if blending with a crowd or hiding on rooftops is something you can do, that’s not exactly possible in some of the places we travel.”

Mustang spoke then, “I have Major Armstrong under my chain of command doing field work. I can send him out to do the latest mission, and give you free time for research. I can’t tell you where to travel, but if you stick with larger cities like Central or New Optain, then Florian and Vitale can meet up with you. I’d encourage you, actually, once you know you’re all in one place, to try and lose your tail. See if you can do something that would force them to contact someone. These two are here to watch your stalker, not you.”

“Well, we’ve been doing that this whole past week,” Ed grumbled, “We’re losing sleep over this.”

“I know it’s probably been rough on you guys,” Hughes chimed in, eyes sympathetic. “We’re trying to figure this out, alright?”

“Hopefully sooner rather than later,” Bunny said flatly. “Well, I guess that’s settled. Starting here in…Central? Tomorrow?”

“As good a time as any,” Florian said, “Isaac can act as bouncer in my place while we’re gone.”

“Woah, wait, what now? Bouncer? You mean you actually _work_ at that place?” The expression on the Freezing Alchemist’s face suggested that he had come to a realization that might have been drastically different from whatever he thought previously. Bouncers worked at bars and clubs, right? Ed could only guess that maybe Florian had been mistaken for a drinker, perhaps, when he was actually working at a place of employment.

Florian eyed him, “We live in the apartments above the establishment, and work at the bar as janitorial staff and cooks to pay rent, just like anyone else. Whenever a customer is too rough with the hostesses, someone has to toss them out. Neither Vitale nor myself are especially tall or imposing, but we have enough strength to get the job done. How we look is unimportant when a male worker needs to be invisible, except where necessary. Lingering in the open will scare people away.”

Mustang regarded the Marionette, “So you’ve been enjoying working there,” He mused.

“It’s honest work, no matter how anyone else wants to paint it, and they have been kind us.” Florian gave Isaac a hard stare, at that, “When we return, I better not have to help put concealer on bruises. Understand?” There was a long pause, before Florian continued, “Now…” He began, “Tell them what you told me. It’s the reason I chose to bring you here. I believe Flame and Hughes both will find it…concerning.”

Isaac scowled, before his expression became something more serious and alarmed, storm clouds in his eyes. “It’s Bradley…He’s…he’s against this whole country. I’m not just talking about Ishval. That was just one tiny part of it. It’s been going on for longer than that. Since the whole country was founded.” Ed noticed how Mustang and Hughes both visibly tensed at the mention of the Ishval Rebellion. Bunny, though, did not change her expression at all, almost as if…she knew something.

“What about Bradley?” The Colonel asked, pressing Isaac to continue.

“I brought a map,” Freezing’s fingers, his entire posture, became twitchy, as if the entire discussion made him anxious, and his hands trembled when he roughly yanked a folded square of paper from one pocket, fumbling slightly with it as he tried to open it. “Major battles fought in Amestris…right? All along our borders, with Creta, Aerugo, Drachma…and…rebellions and conflicts from our own people in the East, along where we border the Great Desert, because Xing’s too far away to fight us, right? It’s not really easy to cross a desert with an army.”

As he unfolded the map of Amestris, dark lines drawn in ink formed a _pattern, _and Isaac gripped the edges so hard that the paper, already creased from where it had been folded, crumbled in a white-knuckled grip. “It goes further than that. Insurrections in cities…I pieced it all together.” He began pointing at the different circled spots on the array, “Pendleton, Wellsley, Fotset, South City,” He looked at the two soldiers again, “Ishval…they’re all here, major battles that have been fought with lots of human casualties. They’re _points_. Our whole country is a circle. We’re an _array_.” His hands shook and he barely refrained from tearing the map.

Florian reached over and gently began to pry the paper from his grip, and Isaac loosened his fingers, shooting him a glare that was too anxious to have any real heat behind it.

“They’ve been bleeding the nation dry for something. And blood…” Vitale tilted his head at Bunny, “Blood is more than cells and water and iron. It is a symbol of life and mortality. It is measured in alchemy for its symbolic value. I do not need to be an alchemist to know that.”

The dog chimera flinched, as if struck, “…We’re expendable. We’re all expendable. Our whole country’s been _founded_ for this.” Her voice trembled. “And the human chimeras…”

“Just another tool,” Vitale completed, his speech trailing into a whisper. “To be used and discarded as they please.”

Ed knew. Because they’d used his and Al’s blood for Mum’s array, to represent something from themselves, something to produce a soul. They did all of the calculations to perform human transmutation, they had all of the ingredients necessary to make a human body, but a soul could not be measured through normal means. Their creation was a warped thing barely alive—_she would never forgive him for making her suffer_—and that _thing_, Truth, One, All, whatever it was called, took from him and his brother. It seemed less like an equivalent trade, and far more like a punishment.

But the trade was not purely flesh, was it? What did his limbs mean? What did Al’s body mean? All they had wanted was for their mother to hold them again. They traded for knowledge.

He was aware of movement, but felt nothing in his metal limbs. Whether it was broken glass or human skin or Bunny’s fur, Ed could not feel it.

Blood was a _symbol._

Hughes’ face had gone deathly pale, as he looked at the map. “…Liore and Fort Briggs…they haven’t been attacked or had major battles…not that I know of.”

“They will,” Isaac told him, his voice shaky and breathless with horror, and yet tinged with relief, as if it had been eating him alive, knowing the truth but having told no one. Relief at being _believed._ “Bradley needs to be _stopped_. Before they finish the array, or it’s over.”

“What are they using the array for?” Alphonse asked, getting everyone’s attention.

Isaac swallowed, as if his mouth had gone dry, “I…I think I know. I didn’t want to talk about it…but…when we were in Ishval…Mustang, do you recall ever being given a red stone?”

_What?_

“No,” Mustang’s eyes narrowed, “Why?”

Vitale’s pupils had dilated, and his feather had pressed tightly to his body, his ear-tufts raising sharply with a sharp intake of breath. Before he spoke, he gave a harsh, tea-kettle hiss, “The _stones_…” His posture became rigid, “It’s always _those. _I know those stones. All of the chimeras do.”

“Not me, _what _stone?” Bunny asked. She seemed to catch the owl-man’s anxiety, her own behavior becoming worried, as if the panic were a contagion.

“The researchers _used_ those stones to transmute us, to make the transmutation stronger. Nothing good can come of them.” His posture was rigid, as if he were prepared to either attack or bolt.

“Vitale?” Florian’s voice held a very real note of worry.

The chimera reached up and pressed his hands over his eyes, and Ed worried, briefly, that those sharp, metal-tipped talons would draw blood, and that he would see red welling up between the man’s feathers. He visibly trembled, and Ed knew that something was very, _very_ wrong. “I was already blasted apart by a land mine,” His voice wavered, weak, and filled with an awful mix of anger and pain, “And they…and they…”

There were no tears, but Ed knew what was happening.

Vitale was crying.

His heart was hurting again.

“…Okay you know what?” Bunny spoke up, “You guys, you keep talking about…whatever it is you’re going to talk about. Mister Vitale? Why don’t we…uh…just come with me.” She walked up and nudged him with her nose, and after a moment, he began to follow, barely aware and almost walking into a tree, as the two disappeared into the shadows.

Mustang watched with a concerned frown, and Hughes looked worried. Freezing was grimacing and Florian….Florian looked _heartbroken_, as if he were on the brink of tears. A long silence followed, everyone trying to process what had just occurred, before the Marionette drew a sharp intake of breath that shook. “He’s….usually composed but…it’s too close. It’s too much.”

Ed watched Florian, and for a moment, felt a sense of loss, as if there was something so, very wrong about the man not having that chimera by his side. Vitale was a complete stranger, but the sense of loss that his companion was experiencing was so strong that it was palpable, even to other people. He could sense how the man itched to run to his friend’s side in that moment, and how not doing so seemed to cause him pain.

Florian was a murderer. He had made a death threat right in front of him.

He was making it hard for Ed to hate him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what Bunny and Vitale will talk about?
> 
> Would you guys believe me if I said that I write this story with only a vague idea of what I'm doing, and I'm just coming up with it as I go?
> 
> SCRIPT:
> 
> Mustang, glaring at Isaac: Explain
> 
> Isaac: Right....you didn't need one...your alchemy's strong enough without it...should have guessed....


	34. Knowledge, Kept Close to The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pair of chimeras, no humans listening, have an open discussion. The world is smaller than people realize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a lot of time to write, not because it was inherently difficult, but because there's a bit of definite plot here, an expansion on backstories and such. I would like to say that the way Bunny and Vitale interact was something I intended from the beginning when I came up with his character, many chapters back. The Criminal Duo (Because that seems to be a general name people sort them by) is actually a group of characters that will be highly compatible with Bunny personality-wise. They 'click', basically.
> 
> Also, what Bunny knows....I hinted it throughout the story and sometimes outright stated it, that she has far more awareness of things than she ever clearly expresses. She's a character that tends to prefer keeping information secret, along with many of her inner thoughts, aside from a few people that seem like they can be trusted to listen without being critical. You get to really see things, a bit, this chapter.

Bunny knew that other human chimeras existed. She simply never expected to meet one of them. She had felt, in spite of everything, a twisted sort of hope the first time she encountered Vitale’s scent, even though it was horrible, knowing what had been done to the man she was looking after now. Out of shame, she did not acknowledge it to anyone, but another part of her _snarled_ at the very idea that she should feel ashamed at all. The part of her that had finally accepted, at some point, that she was no longer completely human, and never would be again. That part of her demanded to know why she should feel guilty, when humans were incapable of understanding how she felt, and what it was like to be something _other_, knowing that the difference went far deeper than they could comprehend.

Because no matter how much she could try to explain it, it was not _them_ who lived in skin like hers, who saw through her eyes, heard with her ears, and breathed through her nose. They would never understand how she was inclined to act different, how she _needed_ to be different because it felt like something wanted to claw its way out of her body if she did not. How could she explain that she always played pretend, even when she was not acting like a dog? To be her true self was to act at times in ways that, to regular humans, were unsightly and undignified—_animal_—and the world was not kind.

The familiar itch she got when she felt trapped returned, while she watched the owl-cat chimera in front of her trying to compose himself. She felt like her flesh rested wrong on her bones, even though structurally, nothing was amiss. It used to be more tolerable than this, but a shapeshifter had been following them, _watching_ them, and it was almost impossible to ignore it. A week of paranoia and anxiety that she felt more acutely than anyone else, the burden of identifying a hidden enemy and warning everyone resting solely on her shoulders, and she wondered if her mind was fraying.

She was tired. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, even if she had nightmares, if it would make the crawling go away. Bunny was tired of feeling like something in her brain was starting to warp from the pressure. She was not _weak,_ she was not some fragile, delicate thing that would shatter into a million pieces, but she knew she was not okay, and that many people would have long-since broken, had they taken her place.

Bunny knew that Vitale was the same, no matter how damaged he looked right now.

The owl-feline curled up on the ground with his back resting against a tree, fitting into a shallow groove formed by its roots. Dead leaves rustled with a light breeze, scattering over the black fabric he used to conceal his form. Those gloved, talon-tipped hands did not leave where they covered his eyes, and his knees were tucked close against his chest; she caught sight of large paws in place of human feet, where the cloak had ridden up slightly. Although there were no tears, she knew from the pained-sounding whimpers that alternated into avian rasps that Vitale was crying. His frame shook as he breathed, trembling when he suppressed his sobs, at some point becoming aware of Bunny watching.

She would not judge him at all. She had ushered him deeper into the forest, until she was sure that the humans were out of earshot—even an owl’s hearing. Far from the light of the group’s lantern, with only the moonlight filtering though leaves to see, they were surrounded by trees and darkness that kept them hidden from sight. A normal person would struggle to find them, so dependent on their vision and unable to make out much in the shadows. To Bunny and Vitale, however, the faint silver dapples along the forest floor were enough, and they could easily find their way back using smell. To the chimeras, the forest looked shaded, but still bright enough to make out everything. To a human, she knew, it was pitch black.

“You’ve got a right to be upset, you know,” She finally said, her voice blunt, but kind. “You’re allowed to be hurt, and anyone who thinks you’re overreacting can go jump in a pit.” Bunny would not actually wish to hurt anyone by prompting them to do such things, but it felt nice to say it. It was its own assurance that he was safe in speaking with her, even if the issue was very personal.

Vitale’s breath caught and he froze, as if he was not sure how to react to her statement. Then, after a few moments, there was a tiny snatch of breathless laugher that sounded far too hurt to be happy. “I’m not much use if I can’t tell people what I know without falling apart…” He slowly slid his hands away from his eyes, looking up at her. “I’m certain Florian would not do anything wrong, if he knew…but…other alchemists…” He drifted off, head swiveling to gaze off into the shadows, perhaps focusing on some hidden creature. His feathers shrunk against his body, from what she could see of his head and neck. His fingers curled absently against his knees, talons at rest.

Bunny had no idea what the red stones were, that he mentioned, except that they apparently made transmutations stronger—she did not want to think about what they _might_ be, even as she saw Ed and Al react with something like recognition. It should have brought hope, an indicator of a possible end to a search that had spanned years, but knowing what they had been used for, she only felt something like bile rising in her throat. “I know,” She told him, “Sometimes I wish I didn’t, but I do.” Ignorance had disappeared long before she met the brothers, before she even became a chimera. She knew far more than someone her age should.

The two regarded each other silently for a while, before the younger spoke again, “Ed and Al might want to know about it. I’ll keep them away from you, if it helps.” Maybe it would be seen as a betrayal, that something like the fabled Stone was seemingly within reach, and Bunny wanted to keep them from asking about it. She knew that sometimes she hurt the brothers, keeping things close to her chest and not telling them what she was thinking. Was she really, though, doing anything worse than what they were doing themselves? Were they entitled to everything, just because they were always together?

If all that Vitale knew of the red stones were that they had been alchemic amplifiers, then asking him about them did little more than dredge up trauma that he was clearly not over, yet. Not only memories of the pain of being transmuted, but of being injured and helpless.

“I appreciate the offer, but please don’t charge into conflict, for my sake. I know little, anyway. It was…the shock, of everything.” She understood what he meant. “Thank you for getting me out of there. You didn’t have to do that.”

“You didn’t have to put yourself in danger, or volunteer to follow us half across Amestris, either.” Her ear twitched, “That, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you. The boys are gonna shun Florian, at least, for the people he killed during that raid, but I don’t have the same exact sentiments they do, and I want you to know that.”

“Is it because I’m with him, or something else?” Vitale asked.

“Partially that, and maybe my own moral convictions are just weaker, in general, but another thing, as well. Killing’s wrong, but…I sincerely doubt he has half the amount of blood on his hands as the two Ishval veterans we left back there. People can try to write it down in history as a rebellion, and maybe it _was_, but no insurrection warrants killing innocent people. Word got out: civilians, children and the sick and disabled. Noncombatants. There is no justification for hurting them. It’s a war crime.” Her eyes narrowed, “If I picked at Florian just because of the principle, ‘killing is wrong’ then I would be a hypocrite, because Mustang and Isaac are far worse.”

“You are…rather young, to know of such things,” Vitale observed, “How do you know this, if the brothers do not?”

“People talk, and when they talk, sometimes the wrong ears hear about it. I wasn’t meant to overhear them discussing the war, but they were _loud_, and I couldn’t _not_ hear them. It was impossible for me to ignore it, so I know about it from a few strangers with no volume control.” She glanced back in the direction they had come from, “Ed and Al were too young to remember any of it, and the parents of a family friend died, so people probably didn’t discuss it around them. It’s one thing to say people were fighting, it’s another to say it’s a one-sided slaughter, or that it _became_ that, later. It _is_ something people should talk about, but I don’t want the person who tells them to be _me_.”

“I see the dilemma. It isn’t a story you’d want to tell, when the actual participants of that fighting are right there. Especially when it’s something to be ashamed of. I saw all of the people who started drinking away their troubles, and was grateful that I was never deployed there.”

“Where were you, then?” She asked. “You have an accent that’s a little blend of two places. I can tell, you’ve got a slight bit of South Area in there, but…North Area, maybe? You’re a townie, definitely” When she wracked her brain for what Vitale’s speech registered as, she suspected he came from one of the northern cities, specifically one with a university where the population would have more education. Every so often, and very faintly, she would pick up a slight drawl, but most people would not register it, because it was so easy to miss.

A slight chuckle, “I grew up in North City, and later moved to South City because I hated the cold. I joined the military and worked at South Command as a soldier for special forces. Drachma is a much greater threat to the country these days, but Aerugo is not too fond of us, either. If Creta wasn’t filled with infighting, we’d probably have them as an enemy, too. I’m positive the only reason we don’t have negative relations with Xing is because of the desert between us and them.”

A bit of recognition sparked in her brain, and Bunny schooled her features to become carefully blank. “Did you ever know a David Lehr?” She asked. Her father’s name felt foreign when she said it, even her own last name did. She was used to calling her parents by their titles, and had not used her surname in years. She felt a pang of loss, and knew it would probably never fade, no matter how much time went by. People liked to claim it would get better, but she had loved her parents, and it would never completely stop hurting, knowing they were gone.

“An interesting question to ask…but…yes…I did. He lived out in…Lichtung, I believe, in the swampy Marais area, but would regularly make trips to South Command for work. He would occasionally stop by our office, with little trinkets he carved from bone. I did woodcuts in my spare time, so we got along fairly well. I didn’t know him closely, but he was a familiar face…” The owl chimera turned his head sharply to the side, seeing how she reacted, “How are you related to this man?” He asked, when Bunny’s breath caught in her throat.

“…He was…my dad…” Her words choked.

There was a long, uncomfortable stretch of silence, “…What happened?” Vitale’s voice became soft, recognizing that something was wrong. His tone, in that moment, made her think so achingly of her own father that it hurt. It held that same sort of calm warmth and concern. It was not that he was similar, or that his voice even sounded the same. There was no hidden search for information or exasperation, no confusion, and there was no worry on Bunny’s part that she would say the wrong thing because she was older.

Vitale was a stranger but he felt _safe_.

“Him and mom are gone…” The words were spoken numbly. “I was twelve when it happened. Drunk driver.”

“You’re….eighteen now? Then...it would have happened around when my team was…” Vitale’s feathers shrank at some memory. It was hard to read his expression, because everything human was replaced with something not. He did not finish his sentence. “…That’s why I didn’t know.” He concluded. He was silent before speaking again “…I know you probably heard it a lot, and it probably doesn’t help at all, but…I’m sorry for your loss. It isn’t fair.” His voice was hoarse with the emotion placed behind the statement. “He was a good man.”

Bunny was quiet for a long time, before responding, “You knew my dad, and both of us are chimeras…” She forced a grin that felt painful, “The world’s really funny the way it works…” It fell, “What…what happened to your team?” Both of them were trying to talk about painful topics, now, and yet attempted to avoid letting themselves be overwhelmed by their emotions.

“We went on a mission by the southern border…” He reached down with one hand and dragged his talons through the dirt, perhaps to ground himself, “Nothing unusual, just reconnaissance, making sure that nobody was planning an attack on Amestrian soil…we didn’t expect the people from the other side to plant an ambush…or land mines.” His pupils changed abruptly, and Bunny reached out and wrapped a paw-like hand around his wrist; she would not risk holding his hand normally. If he forgot where he was and gripped too hard, he could break bones. His head swiveled, attention focusing on the point of contact, and she worried momentarily that she had overstepped.

Vitale stared at her hand for a moment, just breathing, before returning his attention at her, “…Thanks…” He said, before taking the time to compose himself. “We…” He swallowed, “We went in on foot…team of six. Someone stepped on one, and then…I can’t quite tell what happened after. Gunshots, people yelling. Someone got me out of there, but I don’t remember who. I know some of us…some of us died there. I don’t know what happened after, because that was when…” With his free hand, the one that had been dragging in the dirt, he gestured to himself. “I don’t know what happened to the others.”

He reached up with his hand and pressed it over his face, closing his eyes, “Sometimes I bolt awake hearing it. When those things attacked Swallow’s Song and I heard the yelling and shooting, and I saw them just tearing apart those men and women…I was afraid of it happening again. I briefly thought about fighting…it wasn’t that the thought never occurred to me, but…what chance did I have? And Florian…he was unconscious and defenseless. I took him and ran. I ran, and ran and ran until everything hurt. I deserted those people, and I know that’s what a coward does, but I don’t know how to be fearless anymore.”

Bunny balanced on her hind legs and attempted to gently pry the hand on his face away, before he hurt himself. “He’s family to you, isn’t he?” She observed, “Nobody else mattered, as long as you could save him, right?”

“Something is wrong with me and I don’t even know what it is anymore. What _is_ right?” With both hands in front of his face, held in Bunny’s grasp, he leaned forward until his face met his wrists and the backs of her palms, eyes still closed. His feathers were downy and soft, what she could tell through her own fur.

“I don’t know,” Bunny told him, “But…for what it’s worth…I don’t think you’re a bad person. I don’t think Florian is a bad person, either. You did bad things, you did stuff you regret and things you question, but that doesn’t make you bad.”

For some time, they sat there, Bunny not saying anything else because she wanted those words to sink in, before Vitale sharply inhaled and opened his eyes, straightening, “…I want to ask _you_ something…” That intense orange gaze met hers, “…Those boys…the one in the armor, Alphonse…you know that I know this already. I know you do. There isn’t anyone in that armor, and I’m not an alchemist.” He paused, “Why…?”

Bunny closed her eyes and leaned her own head forward, mirroring the posture Vitale had adopted, previously. There was no hiding the truth, and she would not lie to this person. “They made a horrible mistake…” The words came out quiet, barely audible, but she knew the owl-chimera would hear her, anyway, “…and that’s why they’ll want to know about the stones.”

“If we’re seriously thinking about doing this, Roy, then the current number of people we have isn’t enough.” Maes told Mustang, settling a hand on his shoulder, applying just enough pressure to show how serious the sentiment was. “You might be a bunch of powerful alchemists with your freaky circle-science, but you can’t expect to take on everyone, if you’re serious about fighting Bradley, and the rest of us are just normal humans.” Because that was what it had ultimately come to, after the revelation of the nationwide array. With only two points left and no clear timeline of when those areas would experience conflict, they had to assume that the danger was imminent, rather than far into the future. Whatever was being planned, it was linked to the strange creatures, the red stones from Ishval (and Mustang did not want to contemplate what that meant, but he _had_ to), and the chimera program.

Everything was linked, even if those ties were unclear, and it painted an even uglier picture than before of how the Colonel thought the military operated. He had long-since adopted the belief that the Führer was a man with violent intentions, or at least the sort to use far more force than necessary to achieve his goals. He never would have anticipated that Bradley would be heading some sort of scheme that involved transmuting the entire country. It would have been difficult to believe, were it not for the clear evidence that he had been given.

Further complicating things, the conflicts forming the points of the array had been set, even before Bradley. It was not one man, alone, who had built the transmutation circle, but a series of people who had picked up where the previous Führer had left off. That pointed to a conspiracy within the higher echelons of the military, between many people. It was not one person, but an entire group that had to be identified and dealt with, accordingly.

“You’re right,” Mustang saw no point in arguing with his friend. He looked at Fullmetal and Alphonse, “This has gone beyond the issue of your shapeshifter, Elric. I can’t see any way of avoiding it. We’re going to have to tell my team, and we still need to figure out why it’s stalking you.”

Edward crossed his arms, brows furrowed, “So you’re just gonna pull us into this?”

“You’re welcome to resign, if you can’t handle it.”

The Fullmetal Alchemist gritted his teeth, “It’s not about whether or not we can handle it. We’re not going to decide anything until Bunny’s back here with us and she can hear what your plan is. We have stuff to look into, anyway.” There was something odd about his expression. The mention of the red stones, possibly the exact thing they were searching for, and the knowledge that their existence was potentially due to human sacrifice, could not be overlooked. There was no clear information on _what_ they were, but the fact that Isaac implied that their creation may involve bloodshed was enough to be wary.

The issue, Mustang knew, was not that the brothers would tell anyone what they were planning, but whether or not they would lend their support at all. Fullmetal had a reputation as the ‘Hero of the People’ for some of his actions, and if everything went according to plan—not that they even _had_ a plan yet—his support would be an invaluable asset in ensuring that the Amestrian public did not object to a change of leadership or structure.

The Colonel knew, though, he had only himself to blame, for the fact that he could not take for granted that the Elrics and Bunny would help. They had joined the military to find the Philosopher’s Stone or some other means of restoring themselves, and were largely unconcerned with politics. Although he had done it to keep him in line, Mustang had threatened Edward, even using his brother and Bunny as leverage. Even if he was trying not to cross such lines anymore, those previous actions would always be something that the three remembered. Trust was no longer absolute, and it never would be.

It was also not a small thing that he was asking, for them to commit treason for his sake.

“I’m sorry that you three are involved at all,” Maes told the brothers, before turning back to Mustang, “It can’t just be your team, we need others, starting with General Armstrong. Briggs is one of the points on the array, and that means someone is going to target them at some point. Anyone who is a potential ally, we need them.”

“I’ll look into sending a contact her way,” That would be an interesting challenge. Although they had mutual respect for one another’s fighting prowess, the way that Mustang and the General approached politics was very different. Olivier Armstrong was a terrifying woman who had no mercy for those who showed weakness, and it was through sheer power and strong leadership that she had climbed the ranks. Mustang, admittedly, was better at gaining favor in the eyes of specific people, and influencing situations to his benefit. He had been called a weasel on several occasions. The General, after all, had no need—or patience—for such things. “Anyone else you can think of?” He asked.

“She’s visiting Central right now, conveniently enough. Colonel Chouette and her team. We get along fairly well, though she isn’t exactly friendly to new people. I can’t really blame her, though. My office has charged at least three different officers after finding out that they were being abusive towards her staff and even tampering with evidence and documents.” It was said perhaps more for the benefit of everyone else, versus just the Flame Alchemist. Edward and Alphonse had never heard of her, and Florian and Isaac had both left the military some time ago.

Mustang knew about Chouette. An older Colonel who led a particularly skilled team in South Area, all of them identified as special forces. Ironically, despite the respect that their positions should have given them, the soldiers she commanded were people nobody else was willing to work with. Some of them were former criminals; normally they would never be permitted to join the military, much less be trusted with the roles they currently had, but it seemed Chouette, herself, had vouched to get the restrictions waived. Those who did not have history were said to be highly eccentric.

The female Colonel was a highly respected officer in some circles, but a lot of higher-ranking officials despised her. People in the brass loathed Investigations and whenever their attention went to individuals within the military. Although the woman had stuck by her people and stood up for them—as a former criminal background or odd personality would have made them easy scapegoats for suspected misconduct—she had painted a larger target on her own back. Corrupt officials would go out of their way to punish her for daring to step out of line, though all she had done was try to ensure that herself and her people were treated fairly. Perhaps there was some grander statement, in why she had chosen the people she had for her team, staking her reputation on people nobody else was willing to trust.

He had never personally met her, though. Chouette seldom left South Area.

“How would you suggest I approach her with this, then?” He asked. In some ways she would be more challenging to win over than Armstrong; at least the General had past history with Mustang, to know when he was serious. Chouette had every reason to suspect that any proposal from the Flame Alchemist was possibly a trick, meant to be her downfall. How quickly he had climbed the ranks would only work against him.

“Let me be the one to bring this up, and see if we can get some sort of formal meeting, Roy.” Maes told him, “I think she would trust my word, at least.” Trust stored up from proving the innocence of her people when they were falsely accused. Not immediately siding with the soldiers whose records had been clean and assuming things.

“Very well. That’s a good start.” He decided.

Fullmetal snorted, “My commanding officer is planning a rebellion now. Great.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. Things were moving too quickly, perhaps. It was a lot to process.

“Brother,” Alphonse looked at him, “I don’t think…that there’s any other way.”

Florian, still shaken long after Vitale and Bunny left, wrung his hands together, failing to maintain his usual perfect control over his body language, “For what it’s worth, Olivier Armstrong is very respected by her men, and if she agreed to join any sort of movement, all of Briggs would follow her.”

Maes shot him a look, “How do you know about the General? Have you met her before? You weren’t in the military for that long.” Florian was only twenty-four years of age, if memory served correctly. He had been a State Alchemist for only slightly over a year before going rogue.

The young man stopped fidgeting, “I played the piano at a formal event, and several Briggs troops were there. She talked to me for a bit, briefly.”

Isaac snorted, “How’d that go?”

“I mostly remained silent and listened. She had just finished dousing a man with her drink—and possibly breaking his toes, though I was too far away to tell. I wasn’t about to risk incurring her wrath. She was quite angry.”

Mustang smirked at the thought. It must have been a soldier who had not heard about her. Olivier Armstrong was incredibly beautiful, and many people were drawn to her for her looks. Trying to flirt with the General, though, was perhaps the fastest way to get on her bad side. If you were particularly offensive, you would likely wind up in a hospital. “That sounds like her,” He said.

“Was the party after an award ceremony? I think I might have been there.” Maes wondered, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice you there. You would think I would. I mean you always wore your mask.”

“Well, that depends, where was it hosted?” Florian asked.

“Here in Central?”

“Ah, so it’s happened multiple times. Perhaps people should start investing in steel-toe boots.”

There was a long stretch of silence, during which Florian returned to resting his back against a tree, trying to take weight off his bad leg. Isaac, meanwhile, stared at everyone for a few moments, before huffing with annoyance, “We’re just waiting for the chimeras to come back, aren’t we?”

“They’re taking a while…” Mustang thought aloud. There were plenty of things to discuss, but it must have been an hour, already, since they disappeared. The appearance of small-talk, following their planning session, made it immediately obvious that they were running out of meaningful discussion.

Al looked in the direction where the two had disappeared, “Yeah, I’m getting worried.”

The Marionette shook his head, “There’s no need to worry,” The back of his skull lightly rested against the tree trunk as he stared up at a small patch of the sky through the canopy. Central, though, was too close to this forest, so there were not many stars. Florian, like Mustang had noticed once with Bunny, seemed to search for them. “They’re probably just talking.”

Ed frowned at him, “About what?”

He shrugged, “Chimera things. I’m sure they’ll get along. From what I know, Bunny’s an artist, right? So is Vitale.”

Isaac stared at him, “She’s a literal dog-creature, how can she even hold tools to do something?”

Florian heaved a long sigh, “Just ask her when she gets back.”

“I don’t think she likes me that much…”

“Well, you made a bad first impression. That doesn’t mean it’s impossible to get along. There’s hope.”

“I don’t trust that, coming from you.”

“Why not?”

“Well…because….you’re _shady!”_

Florian’s response was to throw back his head and laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to see what people's theories are after this. Backstories with characters, how people will get along with each other, etc. Also I've basically hurled the original plot through the window, by this point. Don't worry, I will make sure Greed and the Devil's Nest shows up. But for now, I wonder what the reader is thinking about how people relate to each other.
> 
> SCRIPT:
> 
> Bunny: -But you've got a human component, you had taste receptors that worked for sweetness, so how did...
> 
> Vitale: I don't know why I lost it. I gained the bird's immunity to spice, and lost the human and bird's ability to taste sweetness.
> 
> Bunny: So...what do you like now? Like what's something you still enjoy?
> 
> Vitale: Mushrooms. They still taste good. What about you?
> 
> Bunny: ....Salmon...do not laugh.
> 
> Vitale: It's a cute coincidence more than it is funny. If we ever decide to eat lunch together, now I know what to prepare.
> 
> Bunny: That's...oh wow I'm actually considering eating lunch with a pair of criminals.
> 
> Vitale: I feel a bit awkward eating around humans, except Florian. It would be nice to not feel that way, for a change.
> 
> Bunny: Uh, yeah, I eat dog food, so...
> 
> Vitale: It really is uncomfortable, isn't it?
> 
> Bunny: Not so much with Ed and Al, but...anyone else? Very.


End file.
